Borrowed Time
by rockbandstar
Summary: They always say be careful what you wish for. Stuck in a monotonous life and unhappily married Rachel can't help but think "if only."  Suddenly she is thrust back into the past and into her relationship with the one that got away. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

_**Borrowed Time**_

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_**They always say be careful what you wish for. Rachel Berry is starting to learn how true that really is. Stuck in a monotonous life and unhappily married Rachel can't help but think "if only." Suddenly she is thrust back into the past and into her relationship with the one that got away. With knowledge of the mistakes that were made and a better understanding of the world, she dives into the relationship head first. But is it really easier the second time around and can they truly make it work?**_

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"_**If only. Those must be the two saddest words in the world." – Mercedes Lackey**_

I still wonder sometimes how it happened; the monotony that has become my everyday life. Every day used to be a new adventure just waiting to be explored. I would wake up and roam the streets of New York, taking in the scenes of the tourists and locals rushing through the city. At night I would head downtown and go out for a few drinks or head to work where I was the star of an off-Broadway musical. My singing used to mean the world to me, but that was before.

A series of events unfold each day like clockwork. I wake up, feed Aden, care for Aden, play with Aden, cook, clean, and eventually fall asleep. This is my new life, or at least the life I have been living for the last three years. It's hard not to sit and think and wonder about what could have been. It's almost impossible not to.

The thought is there in the back of my mind, constantly digging at my subconscious.

What if?

It's a dangerous thought and before I can even truly think it, I roll over and look at the stucco on the ceiling above me. It's taken me a month to learn but it's easier not to think about if I have something to focus on. The pattern of bumps melds and blends until all I can see through the darkness is him.

There is a flutter in the pit of my stomach and I roll to my side trying to push the feeling out. My husband lay next to me; one hand curled around his pillow the other thrown haphazardly in my general direction. I used to find it peaceful watching him sleep, now all I can seem to see in his open mouth and the small puddle of drool on his chin. His snore echo's through the room and I clench my eyes shut pushing this sudden hatred out.

As much as I want to believe it, I know it isn't his fault.

There are few things I find peace with anymore, one of which is just down the hall. I make the short journey and find myself in the rocking chair as I watch my son sleep. His body is twisted and contorted, the blankets are strewn around his ankles, and his Toy Story pajamas are bunched. Each steady breath that he takes makes his chest rise and fall and I watch each movement hypnotized by the beauty of it. I resist the urge to get up and push the small patch of hair off of his forehead and simply just breathe him in. The urge is so strong that my fingers and nostrils tingle from the thought of it.

Instead I pick up the small stuffed lion that lie on top of his toy chest and bring the item to my chest. As I squeeze the item to me, there are flashes of the man who gave this to him.

_A café in New York and the taste of a fresh strawberry scone._

_A walk along a sandy shore, shoes in hand, footprints marring the sand._

_The smell of leather, cinnamon, musk, and spearmint toothpaste._

Before I can stop it, I feel the gentle tear slide down my cheek. I push it away, discarding everything it represents. There are steady streaks of light slowly entering through the window and I force myself out of the chair and down the stairs. It's a new day, and the routine of my life is calling to me.

I try to ignore the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs as I pass it, choosing to pretend that my husband doesn't travel so often that I barely see him. Without even trying to, I wonder exactly how long he will be gone for this time. I'm afraid of the answer, afraid to know that he will be gone for weeks leaving me alone to deal with everything; leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I start the coffee maker and pull out the supplies for breakfast. It's become like autopilot for me; crack the eggs, flip the bacon, butter the toast, _pretend_. I listen as the pad of small feet make their way down the stairs, they are followed by a heavier set and I find my smile becoming forced. Aden runs right to me, his arms wrapping around my legs as he looks up at me through his dark brown eyes.

"Morning baby," I ruffle his hair and look down to find a huge grin on his face.

"Morn' mommy," his voice is soft and still laced with sleep. He tugs on the sleeves of his pajamas as he moves to the table, crawling up into his booster seat before resting his head against his hand. It's a gesture that is so resonant of his father that I can't help but stare.

I pour two cups of coffee and set one of them on the table, nursing the other as I plate the food. I can hear the front door open, and then close and the heavy footsteps make their way into the kitchen.

"The paper isn't here yet," he mutters dejectedly, before flopping into his chair. He has on his travel suit which means that he won't be around for very long this morning. I'm surprised at the feeling of relief that this brings. Once he is gone it will just be Aden and I, something that is always so much more stressful than I ever realized it would be.

No one ever said that mothering would be easy, but in a lot of ways it was just implied. Then again, growing up I never had a mother, just two fathers who took care of me the best that they could. They worked and cooked and cleaned and provided. It wasn't until I got older that I realized there was something strange about my family unit, but by then it was all that I had known.

A lot of times, especially lately, I feel like a fish out of water. I don't have a reference for what a mother is supposed to be like, something that nags my perfectionist brain. I've read books on the subject, looked through countless parenting magazines, and even talked to my friends who seem to embody the perfect mom. No matter how much I study, how much I read, the fact remains, that I'm basically making this up as I go. And that, the fact that I really don't know anything at all, scares the shit out of me more than you can ever imagine.

I place the small plate in front of Aden and set down the larger one in front of Finn. He grunts his thanks as he flips through his cell phone, his mind always on the work that needs to be done. I let out a small sigh of frustration, and he looks up at me in confusion for a moment, before flipping his phone closed.

"I thought, Rach," he speaks through bites of food, "that when I get back we could take a small trip to New York; show Aden the sights and sounds of the city that you seem to miss so much."

I'm not really sure what to say. I don't want to tell him that the one thing about New York that still appeals to me is the one thing I left to be with him. I don't want him to know that just the thought of that city brings about a torrent of emotions that could threaten to pull me under at any moment. I'm not even sure taking Aden to New York at this young of an age (where he can't appreciate any of it anyways) is such a smart idea. I know better than to get my hopes up. I know that this is some placation on a long list of promises that never get met.

But that's not even the worst of it.

Would I be able to be that close to him, that close to the café and our old apartment and the memories without doing _something_? I'm not sure, and that uncertainty is what keeps me from opening my mouth and telling him how amazing that would be.

"Maybe we should go to Disneyworld instead?" The words leave my lips before I can stop them and I put down my fork, watching his fork stop in mid air.

"We most likely wouldn't have enough time," he replies, setting his fork down as well, "I was talking a day or two, Rach, not a week or anything like that."

I try not to let the disappointment show on my face. It's then that I realize I'm not even sure what I am disappointed about. Is it because we can't actually have a normal family vacation? Or is it more because my last ditch attempt to avoid New York, to avoid him, is crumbling underneath me?

"Its fine," I reply, forcing a smile as I look at the clock on the wall behind him. If he doesn't leave soon, then he will be getting a late start on the airport. I can feel the tension in the air and I know that even though he knows that it isn't fine, we are going to pretend that it is.

I spend a lot of time pretending.

He squeezes Aden tight, his huge arms wrapping around him and bringing the small boy up to him, legs swinging in the air. He reaches over and kisses my forehead, his lips hovering for a moment before a horn honks outside. He picks up his suitcase and small carry-on, his eyes lingering on his son's sad face.

"Daddy will be home soon," he replies. I wince at the lie, knowing that soon (to Aden) means a few hours, a day most. Finn, in fact, won't be home for at least a week if not longer depending upon how the negotiations go. I am going to have to be the one to console and soothe the screaming, crying child. We've had this discussion before; he knows my feelings on his little "lies" which is probably why he avoids my eyes as he turns to leave.

The sound of the door closing echoes through the house and I watch as Aden crumples to the floor in tears. Being a mother isn't easy and Finn is definitely not making it any easier.

I placate Aden the best way I know how, sitting him in front of the TV and turning on Spongebob Squarepants. His eyes follow me as I move through the living room picking up toys and pillows that have somehow spread about as if a bomb has gone off. Once the living room is deemed clean, or at least clean enough that if someone stopped by I wouldn't be embarrassed by it, I pick up Aden and take him to his playroom. I put Spongebob on his small TV and put up the baby gate blocking the doorway.

I can't accomplish anything until I've showered and dressed and while locking my son in his playroom isn't the ideal solution, it's the only one I've currently got. I know his playroom is child-safe which eases my worry slightly as I hop under the spray. As much as I want to, I don't linger under the hot water.

#

The park is crowded with children and I find myself clutching Aden's hand, leading him through the running and screaming kids towards the bench near the back corner. There is a smaller (and much older) playset back there nestled between the bike path and the trees, that is fit for children his age. This is where we will find Tina and her daughter Kiah.

I watch Aden jerk around to watch the older kids jump off the slide and swings and can't help but shake my head in worry. The things he learns just by mimicry are a bit scary. I hope this isn't one of them because as much as I love him, I don't know if I could handle another trip to the emergency room. Kiah is playing in the sand, a small shovel in one hand as she builds a mound, her fingers shaping the tiny grains into a rudimentary castle form.

Aden tugs on my hand, trying to free my grasp, and I look around one more time before letting his little fingers go. He runs next to Kiah and hops into the sand, smashing her castle in the process. There are tears on her eyelids as she looks at the ruins and then up at him. He smiles and shrugs sheepishly and I am reminded of a younger version of his father. Together they begin to form the sand again, the shovel digging deeper and deeper as their pile gets higher.

I find myself flopping down on the bench next to Tina, smiling softly in acknowledgement. Tina and I have known each other for years, far longer than most friendships last anyways. It was our sophomore year of high school when we joined glee and soon after she and I had come to an understanding and a friendship. Somehow through all the years, through all the cities, through all the relationships, we had remained in contact.

A few years after high school graduation, Tina had married Mike. It was a relationship that had bloomed somewhat suddenly after a devastating break up with Artie. They were, what I would call, the ideal couple; madly in love, constantly together, and sickeningly happy. It was what I had dreamed of a relationship being, only to be let down continuously by different men in my life.

Well, one specific man in my life.

Kiah had been born a few years later, and two months to the day after Aden. It only seemed natural that we would gravitate together, two first time mothers with children so close in age. It didn't hurt that our husbands were best friends, either, so we moved to the same town and set up play dates and dinner nights and game nights.

Tina was looking at me now, though, like she was about to deal me a devastating blow. I could feel how tired my whole body felt and I really wasn't sure that I was ready for what she was going to tell me but I let out a sigh and steeled my gaze.

"So I was talking to Puck the other day."

And there it was. I felt the air leave my lungs and forced my face to stay still. I had taken enough acting classes that I knew that it was just passable, just barely. I forced my eyes onto Aden, as I let the thought of Noah devour me.

_The way he would passionately push me into the door and devour my mouth the moment it closed behind us._

_How he would lean over and gently lick the shell of my ear as his breath fanned out over the tip. "I love you, B, you know that."_

_The way that we would scream at each other, so loud that the neighbors would call the police. The tears that would fall as he walked away instead of dealing with our problems._

"How is Noah?" I question, my eyes lingering on Aden and Kiah for longer than I needed to before turning to look at her once again.

"He's getting married," Tina replied softly. She watched me carefully, looking for a crack in the façade that I had somehow protected for all of these years. I felt the small break, felt the tiny cracks puncture through my chest but pushed past the pain.

"Wow," I fake smile, not sure if Tina has learned to tell the difference yet or not. "That's great news."

I'm either the world's best actor, or Tina has learned that pushing me will get you nowhere because she nods her head and changes the subject. "Finn take off this morning?"

I can feel my shoulders sagging under the weight of everything, feel the heaviness of the life I am living and I just simply nod my head. I'm so unbelievably tired of everything, of this life, of feeling completely alone. I can't help but wonder what it would have been like all those years ago if I hadn't pushed Noah; hadn't tried to force him into to what I thought he should be.

"You look exhausted," Tina continues as if she can read my mind, "why don't I watch Aden for the afternoon and you can go home and relax."

The idea immediately brightens my mood, and instantaneously makes me feel like a bad mother. I'm so excited for an afternoon to myself, so excited at the prospect of sleep and me time that I push the guilt aside and let out a soft sigh. "Honestly, Tina," I whisper, "that sounds amazing."

We make the short jaunt to her house and I give Aden a hug and a kiss and tell him to be good. He is so distracted by the new toys that Kiah has and by the small plate of cookies that sits on the counter that I leave without telling him I love him.

It isn't until I get home and tug off my clothes, curling up in the silk pajamas that Finn bought me last year for Christmas that I remember. My eyes are so heavy and slightly itchy as if I feel that I could cry at any minute, so instead of worrying about it I slam my thoughts shut. Pushing button number 4 on the console next to the bed I listen to the sounds of Beethoven echoing through the room. I fill the bathtub with the hottest water that I possibly can and pour in the last of my favorite bath bubbles from this organic store in New York. As the scent of vanilla and Jasmine overwhelm me I pile my hair on top of my head and slip into the blistering hot water.

I'm so relaxed that it doesn't take long for my eyes to droop.

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**This story idea has been bugging me for awhile and I finally started to sit down and write it out. There is going to be some jumping around so that you can get the background of the relationships (e.g. there will be some Finnchel but the story is mainly Puckleberry). Speaking of Puck... he will make his appearance starting in the next chapter!**

**I would love to hear what you think so far!**

**N **


	2. Chapter 2

**Quick warning... this story is rated M for a reason :)**

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"_**For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul." – Judy Garland**_

The water around me is cold and the cold seeping through my body is what finally wakes me. The Beethoven has stopped playing, being replaced by the gentle sound of a random song on guitar. The title of it is just on my periphery and I listen to each note carefully trying to identify it. I'm assaulted by the smell of my bubble bath, but there is another smell mixed with it that I can't identify. I jerk my eyes open startled when I realize that I am no longer in my bathtub.

I look down at the large porcelain bowl around me, the claw feet holding it off of tacky black and white tile. I have seen that tile and this tub before and I know that I must be dreaming, because surely there is no other explanation that would make sense. There is a knock on the door, and it opens and my breath is literally taken away from me.

"Are you going to lay in there and prune all night, babe, or are you going to join me for dinner?"

"Noah?" the word escapes my mouth in a gasp and I clench my eyes tight fighting back the tears that I am sure are going to be coming. His sweatpants are hung low on his hips and his shirt is slung over his shoulder, he has a pair of black thick rimmed glasses on and I find that all I want to do is look into his eyes. This is such a fucked up dream.

"What's the matter, B?" and suddenly he is beside me, his knees pressed into the small water catching rug that I had carefully lay out.

I rationally know that I am still at home, in my tub, and that the minute I wake up everything will go back to the way it was. I will have errands to run and I will need to pick up Aden from Tina's. The pain of this realization forces me from saying anything and instead I raise my hands to my face to block it as the tears seep down. I can hear a rustle of movement and then I am being pushed forward and then pressed back into a warm body; a very naked, warm body.

"Shh, shh," he whispers as his hands massage my shoulders and I continue to cry, "It was just one part babe. There will be others bigger and better. It's not the end of the world. I'm here for you." His arms wrap around my stomach and pull me tightly against him, his chin resting on the top of my forehead. I'm so confused and lost and I really don't know what to say or do so I just fall back into him and let him soothe me the way that he used to.

He places gentle kisses on my neck and forehead as he sweeps my moist hair away from my face. The music has stopped playing and it's only then that I realize it was him that I was hearing play. I want to ask him what song he was playing but one of the main things that we used to fight about was his music. Instead I close my eyes and relish in the feel of his arms wrapped around me, his body behind mine.

We are only in the tub for a few minutes, and the air around us is mostly silent, but it is the most comfortable and most at peace I have felt in years. As if I was a fragile porcelain doll, he dries my skin and wraps the towel snugly around me before drying himself. As we exit the bathroom I look down the hall and see the food spread out on the coffee table, his guitar lying haphazardly on the cushions of our couch.

I remember this moment, this night.

I was upset about not getting the part in a new Broadway show. The title to it eludes me, but I do remember how badly I wanted it and how absolutely devastated I was that I hadn't gotten it. I had trudged to the subway and ridden it for hours trying to forget the feeling of helplessness and despair that had been overwhelming me at the time.

When I finally arrived home, Noah sat waiting for me on the couch as if he knew that I would need him to be there. He reminded me that I was "Rachel fucking Berry and I was better than all of those other fuckers." He had drawn me a bath, ordered my favorite take out, and then pulled me into the bedroom to thoroughly distract me.

Instead of heading towards the food, his hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me into our bedroom. There are piles of clothes in the corner, our sheets are a tangled mess, and our comforter is strung across the desk. I'm surprised at how the lack of organization doesn't seem to bother me, in fact I relish in the disarray of how my life used to be.

As he pushes me back onto the bed, his fingers unwrapping the towel from around me I think back to this moment in time.

_It's June 29__th__, 2013._

Its five years before my present time and just a few months short of when Noah and I decided to call it quits. I watch as he drops his towel, the moonlight illuminating his features and wonder if fate has given me a second chance. I know what the future brings, I know the mistakes that I made, and I know how much my life has suffered without him in it.

I lean towards him, my body craving the contact of our skin. As if sensing my urgency Noah leans in to meet me, our lips touching and caressing each other desperately. He is pouring his love into each and every movement and I meet him with a fervor I haven't possessed in years.

My hands trace the panes of his chest, toying with his nipple ring, delighting in the growl that escapes his lips. Sensing my need or perhaps responding to his own, Noah lifts me to the head of the bed. My back arches as he palms and plays with my breasts, his breathing haggard and warm against my ear.

"I love you, B, you know that." He whispers as his hands move lower and knead my hips.

My mouth is open and I am so distracted by everything that is happening, by the feel of his hands on my body, the feel of my heart hammering in my chest, every pore is suddenly alive and I find my mouth moving in response. "I love you too, Noah."

I flash to Finn and the vows that I have taken, but here in the now, Finn isn't even a blip on the radar of our relationship. I push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on his fingers which are now plunging deep within me.

"God, you're so wet, Rach." His hum reverberates against my neck and I am panting, my eyes are clenching tight, and I am so close to falling apart. Suddenly his fingers are gone and I can feel the head of his penis resting against me.

"Oh god, Noah, please!" I beg as his mouth presses against me and he pushes inside of me. My body is on fire and trembles have overtaken me. I feel as if a piece of me has been given back and I am suddenly complete once again. I pull my lips away and cry out against the sensation of him fully inside of me. It's been a while for me, longer than I care to admit, and any movement is going to set me off.

"Look at me, Rach." His voice is husky and deeper than normal, and it has a demanding quality to it that literally makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I open my eyes, meeting his hazel ones and getting lost in the depths of them.

As much as I try, I can't hold my emotions any longer, and the tears fall down my cheeks. His face is rimmed with love and a bit of concern. Our love life was good, but it was never this emotional and I'm sure that he is a bit taken back by it.

"I will always love you," I whimper.

His hand wraps around my chin gently and he kisses me softly, our tongues moving together gently as he pulls out and pushes back in. I meet each of his thrusts with one of my own, feeling the tension building higher and higher in my stomach.

I can't help but muse at how well we move together, we are synchronized, and the feeling of oneness is so overwhelming that it's hard to breathe.

I don't remember it ever feeling like this, this intense, this real.

Our bodies, sweaty and breathless, slide and heave against each others as my walls begin to clamp around him. The waves that overtake me fill my senses and I am screaming his name, the sound echoing through our room and across our apartment. I feel him pulse within me and he calls my name into the air, his head burrowing into my sweaty hair as he falls on top of me.

I can feel the tears and fight them back, burrowing my face into the nook of his neck, I let them close against the sweaty skin. He nuzzles my neck and places gentle kisses along my pulse, sucking the skin into his mouth. It's not minutes later that I feel him begin to harden within me once again.

This is going to be a gloriously long night.

#

Even with the late night, I still wake up earlier than I would like and find myself out of bed and roaming our old apartment. My muscles are stiff and a bit sore, but the pain reminds me of where I am and who I am with, so I take it with pleasure. I've pulled Noah's discarded T-shirt over my body not only to cover my bare skin but because it feels amazing to just smell him again.

This place, the home we made for ourselves, makes me feel more comfortable than it probably should. The apartment wasn't without its problems (the light in the hallway didn't work unless you jiggled the switch) but it also had a quaint charm to it that I had grown to love. I could hear the buzz of the washer and dryer that were placed just across the hall from us and found myself smiling at the sound.

When we had first moved in the noise had driven me insane to the point where two weeks after we had moved in I was begging Noah to move. As time wore on I got used to the noise and used to equate it with being home. I guess I was going to have to get used to tuning it out again, I thought happily.

Our calendar is on a hook next to the phone and I pull it off looking through the past few days and next few days activities. My audition from the night before is circled and starred with one of those gaudy gold stars that I had used to sign everything with when I still had dreams. The bitterness of the thought surprises me and I quickly hang the calendar up promising to delve into those feelings later.

Right now I want to remain blissfully happy.

My cell phone is in my purse, which I must have thrown by the couch the night before after arriving home. I pull the device out and flip through my missed calls and messages pausing only when I see the name Britt. My hands are trembling as I dial the number, sitting down on the edge of the couch once she answers.

"Hiya Rach," her voice is way too perky for this time of the morning and I can't help but smile.

"Britt?" I question, my voice wavering as I try to compose myself.

"Shit," she replies quickly, "by the sound of your voice you didn't get it did you? I was waiting for your call last night, but when you didn't I figured that Puck just distracted you." She doesn't wait for a response but continues on, "San and I will be over in an hour or so and we are stealing you for the day, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Even Puck can't fault you for going for a spa day after last night."

Before I can even truly digest the information I hear the dial tone and look down at my phone in awe. There was a time when I was close with Brittany and Santana, a time when in fact the three of us were the best of friends. When everything was said and done, and my relationship with Puck was over, the lines had been clearly drawn in the sand and not in my favor. Hearing her voice now just reminds me how much I have missed her all these years, how much was missing in my life without her and San's friendship.

I'm in such a good mood and I've got enough time before they get here that I head into the kitchen, pulling the ingredients out to make chocolate chip pancakes. I let the griddle heat and sit at the table (a garage sale find!) admiring the general chaos of the room. There are unwashed dishes in the sink, a few bottles next to the bin, and a stack of hand towels by the linen closet. The unruliness, which I would normally find unbearable, is a relaxing change of pace.

I put my iPod on the dock, letting the music echo through the kitchen as I go about mixing the batter. I'm swinging my hips to the beat, spatula in my hand like a microphone, when Noah finally makes his presence in the kitchen. He has an amused look on his face as he takes in the image of me dancing and singing in his baggy shirt.

"Breakfast and a show," his eyes scan my body for a moment and I can feel the blush move up my neck and across my face, "excellent." It doesn't matter that we have been together for years, doesn't matter that I have come to expect anything to come out of his lips; he still has this effect on me. Deciding not to respond I turn my back to him and flip the patty letting the other side brown.

Instead of sitting at the table, he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, his lips brushing against the back of my head. "Are you feeling better about everything?" he questions and I can hear the concern and sincerity of it.

I think back to last night's activities and can't help but smile and nod my head. His lips make their way from the back of my head down to my neck and I can feel his teeth gently nipping at the skin. "Britt called," I groan out as I feel his chuckle reverberate against my back, "She, San, and I are going to have a spa day today."

"No," he grumbles his arms wrapping tighter as I pull the pancakes off the griddle and flip them onto a plate. "My day is completely free," his arms begin to move lower, caressing the bare skin of my thighs, "I thought we would spend it together, in bed."

I can feel the blush rising up my body, feel each brush of his finger against my skin, but Britt and San are going to be here any minute, so I pull away and look up at him. "I promised them I would go with them, Noah." I rest my hands on his chest, trying to keep him a step back while I gain my bearings and catch my breath.

"I can just send them away, B, I don't have a problem with that." His eyebrow arched in amusement and I found myself stepping back further, the counter digging into my spine. Noah was always able to distract me, make me become completely unhinged, and as he stepped closer I could feel the pull of his body calling to me.

"No," I whimpered, noticing how unsure my voice sounded.

Without warning, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. My hands that had started out pushing him away were now locked between the two of us and small whimpers were escaping my lips. I can't ignore the feel of his body against mine, the fire that slowly burns within me, and leaning into him I give the kiss everything I've got.

Grabbing my hips roughly, he picks me up and sets me down on the empty expanse of the counter. Without even thinking about it, I wrap my legs around him, pulling him tightly towards me and feeling the brush of his erection against me.

His hands are everywhere at once, brushing, stroking and teasing me into a frenzy. I plunge my hand into his sweats, finding and gripping him firmly. I watch his face as I slowly pump him, each movement making it contort in pleasure. As my thumb rubbed across the tip, I could faintly hear a knock in the distance and groaned.

"Something wrong?" he growled, his hands tugging his shirt off of my body and his mouth leaning down to nip at my breasts. I can't help the hiss that escapes my lips, and I throw my head back against the cupboards. His fingers find their way inside of me and as he pumps them I can't help the cry that escapes my lips.

"Just fuck me already," I beg. I try to ignore the smirk of triumph on his lips and the sound of the knock getting louder.

"You got it babe," he groaned. Before I can even respond, he plunges into me. I let out a scream, as he pulls out and slams back in with no mercy. The mixture of pleasure and pain is causing me to lose control and I can hear the stream of words bellowing from my mouth. My hips jerk to meet his thrusts and I feel his fingers dig into my hips.

"Oh god," I whimper, "harder."

He stops for a moment, looking at me in awe, before he picks me up and rotates me onto the kitchen table. "You are mine," he growls as he thrusts harder, his hands using the table for leverage. "ALL FUCKING MINE." His hand reaches down to rub my clit and I find myself letting go.

My body convulses, I see gold stars in my eyes, and I clearly hear my high pitched scream.

It takes a few minutes for me to come down and when I do the first thing I see is the look of awe on his face. The second thing I see is my two best friends, jaws slack, standing in the kitchen door.

Well fuck my life.

* * *

**Wow... I'm glad that a lot of you are loving this concept as much as I am! Thanks to those of you who reviewed, added to your favorites, or alerts! You guys made my weekend!**

**Coming up next: A spa day with Britt and San, plus we learn what exactly happened to end the relationship last time**

**Until then**

**N**


	3. Chapter 3

"_**Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives." – Richard Bach**_

I find myself not in the least bit surprised that Britt and Santana have just let themselves into our apartment. It's been such a long time since I have seen them and I can feel the tears burning at my eyes as I grab my discarded shirt, throw it over me and then literally throw myself at them. My arms are around their waists literally squeezing them to me when I hear Noah behind me.

"Fucking A, you guys couldn't have waited five more minutes?"

"Not like we haven't seen it before, Puck," Santana snipped back, a smirk on her lips as she raised her eyebrows at me. I can feel the blush rising on my cheeks, so instead of acknowledging the awkwardness I make my way down the hall to grab some clothes. I can hear the hum of their conversation through the paper thin walls. I would give anything to take a shower because I know without a doubt that I smell like sex, but I don't think that I should make Britt and San wait any longer so instead I wet a rag and do a quick clean up.

When I'm finally dressed, I come out of our room to find Noah lounging on the couch his sweatpants back on. Brit and San are standing by the door, trying to not look impatient. I'm expecting Noah to try and pull some shenanigans to get me to stay, but he just smiles and sheepishly waves his hand as we walk out the door.

"Please tell me what you said to him to get him to be that cooperative because I swear to all that is holy that could be a lifesaver."

Laughter fills the car and I can't help but grin at my two best friends. I momentarily think of Tina and realize that I haven't talked to her in awhile and will have to call her soon. Thinking of Tina makes me think of Kiah which ultimately makes me think of Aden.

I picture the way his hair would curl under slightly when it was wet. I picture the way he would stick his tongue between his teeth when he was trying to concentrate. And I picture the day his father walked out promising to be home soon and he crumpled in front of me. For these past few years he has been my sanctuary, my rock, and in so many ways I miss him more than I miss Finn, as strange as that sounded.

I look up and realize we are at the spa and that Britt and San are looking at me in concern. I'm not sure how long I have been spacing for or how long we have been sitting in the parking lot but if their looks are any notion then it's longer than I am thinking. I open my door and step out into the sunlight, leaning my face back to soak up the rays.

"You were gone for quite awhile there, Rach." It's not a question but I can hear the concern behind it. I know what Britt is asking (Is everything alright with you and Puck? Did something happen? Did you guys have another fight?).

"Just thinking about this morning," I lie and can't help but smile as I get a flash of him pushing me up against the kitchen counter.

Santana seems to buy my response but I look at Brittany and see the quirk of her eyebrow. No one really gives her as much credit as she deserves. The girl could be clueless about so many things but she was observant as all get out. She tended to notice things that other people wouldn't. It was kind of both a blessing and a curse depending on when it came into use. Silently I shake my head at her and she nods in acknowledgement. The other nice thing about Britt was that she didn't pry.

We pile into three of the changing rooms, pulling on the plush white robes before meeting in the main room. We go for pedicures first, each sitting next to each other so that we can gossip while the workers buff and scrub our feet.

"So that was some screaming this morning," San whistles, her smile growing as my blush spread across my face. Britt just chuckles and shakes her head her eyes watching the interaction with amusement. "And on the kitchen table too," San continues and I know that she isn't going to stop until she gets some sort of response.

"Technically," I reply my eyes on my fingernails as I try and repress my blush, "it was the kitchen counter and _then_ the kitchen table." I look up to see San's mouth literally open and Britt clapping her hands, her head thrown back laughter escaping.

"Lucky bitch," San growls before laughing with Britt. I don't take it personally because I know that is her way of saying that she 'approves' of my 'deviant' behavior.

"Did you know," Britt mused, "that it's impossible to lick your elbow."

"I've never really thought about it," I replied, trying to hold my smile in.

"I've tried," Britt admitted, "it literally can't be done."

"Well then," San responded, "that's good to know." I can hear the amusement in her voice, but we've just come to learn to love the things that come out of Britt's mouth so neither of us says anything about the absurdity of it.

After our toenails are finished we split up for facials, mud baths, and massages. I choose to get the pore refining facial and lean back, listening to the classical music playing through the speakers. The music is supposed to be soothing but it makes me think about my old life, which only seems to make me tenser. Music, no matter what kind, normally soothes me and I'm a bit surprised when I find myself asking the tech to turn it off.

For some reason I enjoy the quiet more than I normally would.

As the technician massages the oil into my skin I find myself thinking about the morning with Noah. We had never had problems with sex; in fact that was one of the best things about our relationship. We were so passionate, so fired up for each other that other aspects of our relationship got pushed to the side. This morning, though, things seemed so wonderful and as hard as I try, I can't help but think about the last time.

#

I can't begin to explain how our relationship fell apart; it literally just crumbled before my very eyes. Noah and I had been fighting constantly over _everything_ and the relationship seemed so hard. At the time I remember being so upset over his inability to communicate, in his unwillingness to make anything of himself.

We had been screaming at each other for an hour and his hand was literally yanking on his hair, his nostrils flaring. My throat felt raw and I remember flopping down on the couch, tears of frustration falling down my face. There was a thick silence in the room, neither of us looking at the other. I remember hearing his grunt of frustration as he picked up the TV remote and chucked it at the wall. When I think about it now, I wonder if that was his way of getting my attention, of trying to explain the part of him that he was hiding inside. Instead of sitting and dealing with him, though, I had grabbed my purse and threw on some shoes, storming out of the apartment hoping that when I came back later he would have cooled off.

I had made my way down the stairs and out into the chilly weather. There were tons of people that I could have called, a multitude of friends apartments that I could have crashed at for a few hours until we both had our heads wrapped around the fight. Instead I punched in the one number I knew that I probably shouldn't have called.

Finn and Noah had resolved their differences after the drama of baby-gate. Their friendship had slowly repaired itself through the years, but they were never really back to where they were before the baby-bomb had been dropped. Finn and I had dated our junior year of high school, something which still seemed to piss Noah off for reasons he never really explained. The summer before my senior year Noah and I had rekindled our brief romance and had been together ever since.

And in my anger, in my frustration over our constant fighting, I called the one person I knew Noah wouldn't want me too. We didn't say much on the phone, but I knew that Finn could tell from my sniffling that this was an epic fight. Hopping on the subway, we met up at a small, dingy diner that was approximately half way between our two residences. We had sat in silence, drinking coffee, as he watched the tears drip down my face.

My phone never rang, so I didn't bother calling Noah either.

I ended up going back to Finn's with him. As we sat on his couch, I told him about our fights. About how Noah was so closed off and a lot of times I felt like it was my fault. I told him that I didn't feel good enough and probably never would (something my therapist told me was a residual effect from all the tormenting in high school.) I told him about how I was pushing Noah to play his guitar and work on his music and how angry that made him. And he sat and listened as I talked for hours without interrupting or judging or even saying a word.

If I were to justify it now, I would say I didn't want to be alone. But I think part of the reason that I chose Finn was because I knew, in some way, that it would hurt Noah as much as he was hurting me. Nothing happened that night, I ended up falling asleep on Finn's couch sometime early in the morning, but just the fact that Finn had been there for me when I really needed him planted seeds of doubt in my brain.

When I woke up the next morning all I could think about was getting home to Noah and finishing our fight so that everything would be alright again. I remember sitting on the subway, the worry showing through the constant biting I was doing to my nails. I hesitated outside our door for just a moment, before shoving my key in and entering the war zone.

Noah was sitting on the couch, an empty bottle of jack on the floor next to him. There were empty beer bottles scattered across the coffee table along with a few fast food wrappers. His eyes were red and bleary and I could tell that he had been up all night drinking and was most likely still drunk. Walking past him I made my way down the hall to our bedroom, trying to avoid a confrontation when I knew that he was clearly not in his right mind.

I could hear the sound of his stumbling as he followed me down the hallway. When he reached our room, his eyes scanned over me a glower on his face.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he questioned, his words slightly slurred.

"Noah," I grumbled, "you're drunk. Why don't you sleep this off and we will talk about it later?"

He had crawled into bed growling under his breath and had quickly fallen asleep. I made my way into the living room, cleaning up his mess and trying not to think about how I had bared my soul to someone other than him. The tears fell shortly after that, and I spent the day lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling, thinking about where our relationship went so wrong.

When he finally woke up he stormed into the living room, something having lit a fire under his ass.

"Where the fuck were you?" he questioned his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He took a look at me, noticing the tears on my face, and his seemed to soften a bit. "I called Britt and Santana and they said they hadn't heard from you. So then I started calling everyone we knew in this city and no one knew where you were. Do you know how worried I was? How worried we all were?"

I remember being so utterly irritated, though now looking back I'm not really sure why. I remember rolling my eyes at him and throwing my hands in the air dramatically before responding. "You must not have called everyone."

His brow furrowed and then realization seemed to dawn on him and I watched as he leaned against the wall, his knees buckling a bit. "You wouldn't do that to me, Rach. I know you. You wouldn't run to him. You _wouldn't_." There was a desperate tinge to his voice and for some reason I felt vindicated.

"I was with Finn."

His back hit the wall and he slid down it, his head in his hands. I watched as his shoulders trembled, watched the way he slowly fell apart in front of me and I didn't say anything. I looked at the hole in the wall where the remote had smashed the previous night. It was a perfect metaphor for the hole that was slowly forming in my heart.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore, Noah. It just hurts too fucking much."

His hands had dropped from his face, so that I could clearly see the tears streaking down his face. His head shook as he looked at me and I could see the devastation on his face. "Please, Rach, please don't do this. Please. I'm so sorry."

"If it means anything," I felt the tears fall down my face, "nothing happened last night. We just met for coffee and talked. Talking to him made me realize that I'm just not happy anymore. I just, well we are always fighting and I'm just so tired."

I expected him to fight, expected some sort of begging or groveling, but instead he just nodded his head with a dejected look on his face. He got up off the floor, went to the key bowl and pulled his keys out. "I'll be back in a bit."

I waited until the door closed behind him to truly fall apart.

I now know all the mistakes we made that got us to this point, know after years of analyzing our relationship the errors of our ways. Instead of talking about our problems, they festered and grew until they became so big that neither of us could overcome them. This time around is going to be different, this time around we're going to work.

* * *

**Thanks to those of you who reviewed, added to your favorites, or alerts! You guys are rockstars ;0)**

**Coming up next: A surprising phone call changes everyone's lives**

**Until then**

**N**


	4. Chapter 4

"_**You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel." - Unknown**_

Its a few days later, when I'm waiting in line for an audition, that I receive the call. I feel my hands clenching the plastic of the chair, my nails digging into the tacky material. I hear my name being called and find myself standing up and walking away from the voice and out of the building. I'm not sure how I make it home; I just know that when I walk in the door that Noah is on the floor but that he is blurry. It's only then that I realize that there are tears pouring from my eyes.

He looks up at me with genuine concern and drops the game controller in his hands, before pulling me down to him. I can feel the way his eyes are evaluating me, concern flooding his features as I continue to remain silent. I bury my face in his neck, my breathing haggard against his skin and he strokes my back, his hand shaking.

"Rach, you're starting to scare me."

I don't trust my voice to speak, so instead I clutch his shirt in my fists and pull him closer to me. The feel of him with me, holding me, is soothing and my heart slowly begins to calm down as does my breathing. I pull back and look him in the eyes, seeing the wrinkles that have formed around them as he has held me.

"Noah," my voice is tiny and unbelievably quiet, "there was an accident."

His face pales and there is a moment where it's hard to believe that he has ever pulled off a tough guy bravado. Then his hands are shaking me and he is asking me question after question and for some reason my mind is having difficulty forming the words. I've lived through this moment before, but for some reason my mind still can't wrap around it.

I don't know how to tell him, not sure how the words are going to come out of my mouth and I find my hand resting against his face hoping to soothe the blow I am about to deliver.

"Quinn and her husband," my breath catches and I swallow it back forcing myself to continue, "Quinn and her husband were driving home from visiting his parents. A semi driver fell asleep, Noah, and crashed into their car. She was killed on impact. Jason called me from the hospital, he has a broken wrist but otherwise he's fine; he wanted you to know because he knew that you two still kept in contact."

His body goes rigid and I can sense more than feel that he recoils from me just a bit. The action hurts worse than I can possibly remember and I find myself off of his lap and sitting on the couch. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, and the apartment is so deadly quiet that I swear I can hear the kids three floors down running around.

I knew that Quinn was a touchy subject, knew about their ill-doomed relationship junior year after Beth was given away. Noah had mentioned that he kept in contact with Quinn and I had seen the pictures of Beth that Shelby had sent to them. I knew that the love and loss he was feeling was for the mother of his child and yet to see the look of devastation on his face hurt way more than my fragile self was willing to admit.

Pushing my feelings of rejection away I got up off the couch and made my way to him. I let my arms drape around his shoulders and found my cheek resting against the top of his head. I looked at the TV screen and watched the words "paused" bounce around the blackened screen, the dead bodies just barely detectable. He doesn't move, doesn't even blink, and instead of giving up, of getting up and walking out (what I did last time), I stay that way for hours just holding him.

I'm not sure what I expect when he finally reacts, but I'm surprised to see the small teardrops dripping down his cheeks. His arms reach around and pull me into his lap and my back aches at the sudden movement after having stood so still for such a long period of time. He buries his face into my hair and I hear and feel each deep inhalation that he takes. His arms are wrapped tightly around me, his fingers digging into my sides but I can't find it in me to voice any complaints. Instead my hands make their way to his head, gently stroking as I softly hum to him.

As we gently rock together, in each other's arms, I realize that as badass as he swears he is that he is still human too and that sometimes he needs comfort just as much as I would. I help him up from the floor and pull him back to the bedroom. I tug off all of his clothes and gently push him into bed. I pull off my own clothes and then gently climb into the bed behind him, letting my arms wrap around him. I hum and sing softly, watching the flicker of his eyes as they stare at the wall and ceiling until he falls asleep.

#

It's sometime in the middle of the night when I wake up in bed, alone and cold. The light from the window illuminates the room enough that I can maneuver about, grabbing a shirt and pulling it over my bare body. I make my way down the hall and into the living area. The TV is on low and the screen flickers, making the room take on an eerie blue glow. Noah is in his boxers, his eyes closed tightly, worry lines etched into his forehead, and his mouth is open a gentle snore escaping his lips.

I try my hardest not to take it personally. Try to push the longing that is suddenly making the pit of my stomach ache out of my mind. I pull the blanket from the back of the couch and lay it across him, gently tucking it around him. I turn off the TV, place a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then trek my way back to our room. It's chilly in bed without Noah, so I leave the shirt on and grab a pair of his boxers tugging them on as well. I pull the comforter off of the desk and wrap it around me, snuggling into the bed.

That night I lay awake staring at the ceiling, the feeling of loneliness so effervescing within me that I force my face into the pillow to block out my cries. I try to ignore the despair that is growing within me, the feeling of doubt that even with this second chance I will not be able to keep him. I eventually fall into a restless sleep my dreams plagued with empty screaming faces.

#

When morning comes, I refuse to pull myself from the cocoon I have made around me. The comforter has twisted and contorted to my body and I know that if I just dip my head down a little bit I will be completely immersed. Before I really even think about it, I find myself burrowing deeper, letting myself be fully engulfed by the fabric.

I can hear music being played from some other apartment, can hear the buzz of the dryers alarm, and the stomping of someone's feet as they walk up the stairs. It's hard to believe that I have come to equate these sounds to home and to comfort, but I have.

A sigh escapes my lips and not seconds later the bed shifts next to me. I can feel the fabric being pulled away and the chill of the air rushes onto my skin, causing me to squeal and pull tightly to it.

"Damnit, B," Noah scolds gently, "let me in."

I quickly flip up the edge, letting him crawl under, before making him tuck it around him. The light coming through the fabric is dimmed and the air tastes stale, it's wonderful. I can feel the heat of each of his breaths as he lies next to me.

"I thought you were claustrophobic?" His eyes scan over my features, lingering on his boxer shorts for just a moment, before they meet mine.

"I am," I reply shrugging my shoulders, "strangely this isn't bothering me."

The silence between us is heavy and I can't help but notice how intently he is staring at anything but me. I don't want to push him, don't want to fight with him here in this protective cocoon I've made. Instead of pushing, I roll to my side, letting my fingers tug at a loose string that is hanging down. I watch it slip and curl around my finger until his hand reaches up, grasping mine. Our fingers entwine and I feel him pulling me closer, my back brushing against his chest.

"Thank you," he whispers, his lips brushing against my temple. I'm not sure if he is thanking me for my silence or for something else, so I just nod my head in response. He seems to understand my confusion though, because he holds me tighter his lips brushing against my hair as he speaks. "I know how hard that was to find me on the couch, how much that must have hurt you. Yet instead of taking it personally you made sure that I was alright and comfortable and then left me alone. I'm so sorry baby; I just woke up in the middle of the night and felt like I couldn't breathe. I was hoping that the TV would turn my thoughts off, just for a little bit."

Noah's hands brush against the bare skin of my stomach, his fingers trailing the expanse of my skin just above his boxers. I'm not sure what to really say to him, not sure that there is any placation I can give that will change the pain that he is feeling. I'm really not as big of a person as he seems to think I am. Finding him on the couch did hurt, even with his explanation. We are in a relationship and are supposed to be turning to each other. The fact that he chose to run instead of wake me up kind of bothers me.

His palm flattens against my stomach and slowly begins to move upwards, his mouth moving along the back of my neck. I can hear the whimper escape my lips as his fingertips reach the bottom of my breast, gently brushing against it.

My eyes are clenched tight, my breathing is ragged. His tongue flicks out, licking the shell of my ear. I can feel his pants of breath across the wet skin.

"I love you, B, you know that."

He pulls the boxers down my legs, his hands manipulating and moving my body until I am so close that it's almost painful. The sweat is dripping down my forehead, my hair is plastered to my head, and I feel him move behind me tugging his shorts off.

He pushes inside of me words slipping gently off his lips. I listen to the "I love you's" and the way my name "Rachel," tumbles and falls from his lips.

He spends the day making it up to me, only the way he can.

#

The funeral is planned for later that week. All of the original glee members are going to be there and I realize that this is the first time I am going to see Finn since I have "borrowed time," or whatever you want to call it.

We make the trip from New York City to Columbus, Ohio slowly. Our train of cars stopping at random intervals to fuel up and get food. It's at one of these stops that I notice the look on Finn's face. It's similar to the one that Noah had the night he found out, but there is more despair in his eyes than I have ever seen.

I find myself walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. His head rests against my shoulder, his body hunkered down and shuddering against me. Brittany is watching the interaction, her hand covering her mouth as the tears fall down her face. Santana is leaning against her, arms wrapped securely around Britt. Mike and Tina are leaning against their car. Tina's brow is furrowed her eyes on me. Mike is looking off in the distance, his eyes on Noah.

I turn my head, my eyes meeting his, and find Noah's "badass" hard face. It's a look I haven't seen for years and one that reminds me of the boy that he was in high school. My hand unconsciously brushes Finn's hair in a soothing manner and I swear that I can almost see the steam coming out of Noah's ears. I pat Finn gently on the back before pulling away and walking across the parking lot, my arms wrapping around Noah. He squeezes me to his side, his posture and motions clear to everyone.

'She is mine.'

There is a staring contest, a few dirty looks, and then everyone loads themselves into their respective vehicles. I know that I should be upset at the Neanderthal display, know that I should tell Noah off for being such a poor friend. We still have several miles of our journey ahead of us, not to mention the visitation and funeral. Instead of saying anything, I find myself sliding over on the bucket seat of his truck, my head resting on his shoulder and my hand tangling with one of his. I bring his fingers up to my lips and kiss them in what I hope is a reassuring gesture.

A small smile suddenly appears on his face and I find that I can't help but smile softly in return.

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**I'm kind of plesantly surprised at how quickly this story is coming to me. Thanks to those of you who reviewed, added to your favs, or added to alerts!**

**Quick question: The sneak peeks that I am sending out in response to reviews... are you guys liking that or no? Let me know...mmmk?**

**It's looking like this is probably going to be longer than I was thinking... which means that I am looking for a beta! If your interested, send me a PM!**

**Coming up: Some Finnchel history and major tension!**

**N**


	5. Chapter 5

"_**Familiarity is the root of the closest friendships, as well as the intensest hatreds." – Antoine Rivarol**_

The night of the visitation goes smoothly, well as smoothly as it can for the circumstances anyways. I can feel the exhaustion settling into my bones, but resign myself to stay awake for a few more hours. The gang meets at a hole-in-the-wall diner that is relatively near to our hotels but somewhat difficult to find. When we finally arrive it's late enough that the establishment is pretty much empty apart from our group, which is to our benefit.

We talk, joke, and reminisce. There is a heavy weight over all of us with the events of the day, and it just feels good to just be. There are small groups dispersed throughout the dining area, but I can't seem to force myself to join any of them. Instead I hunker down in a booth in the corner and relish in the silence around me.

I learned, at a relatively young age, how to handle things on my own and about putting on a good face for others. It's something that I have literally perfected after all these years. It isn't until I rest my head against the wall that I realize that I am literally wiped from the effort it takes just to keep smiling. No, I wasn't close with Quinn. In fact, for most of our high school years I could not stand her.

But she was gone now.

My life was full of experiences; of falling in love, making mistakes, growing, and learning. There were times when I felt lost and confused, times when I would feel lonely, times when I was so filled with love that I could barely breathe, and there were times when my life felt completely out of my control. Quinn would never have the opportunity to say goodbye to her husband, she would never have the chance to have another daughter, would never get to see the impact that she had made on our small group.

The thought was terrifying.

Before I can fully digest the feeling that is building up inside of me, a cup of coffee is placed in front of me with a gentle voice telling me to "drink." I take a sip of the bitter mixture, my lips curling around the edge of the cup to blow the steam away. I feel Finn move into the booth beside me, his large frame taking up most of the small seat. He slides close to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder as he pulls my head away from the wall and rests it on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper.

I find myself turning to look at him, my head nodding as my fake smile plasters onto my face. "I'm fine, Finn." The words sound hollow to me, an easy placation that you give someone instead of answering their question, but he seems to buy them. If I had learned anything from marrying Finn it was that, while he was a nice guy, he wasn't exactly the best boyfriend or husband. I sometimes question whether or not he ever really knew me.

#

I didn't really ever think that I would end up with Finn. I mean, sure, when I was in high school I would have foolish fantasies about the two of us running away together and eloping, living happily ever after. But in a lot of ways I knew that they were fantasies and that is what made them so perfect in the first place. Our whole sophomore year of high school we danced around each other, the ambiguity of our relationship always taunting me; always just on the horizon.

Then Regionals happened and for awhile we were happy.

Our junior year was a series of break-ups and make-ups that rivaled that of Puck's relationship with Quinn. It wasn't that I didn't trust him (an issue I had struggled with when dealing with my relationship with Noah) and it wasn't that I didn't love him but more that something between us felt off. A lot of times when I was talking I could see the way his eyes glazed over and the way that he pretended to listen. He was insecure about his reputation and what other people thought of him and it showed in the way he handled himself.

The relief I saw in his eyes the day we broke up was the final straw. I forced myself to move on and literally threw myself into my music and schoolwork. Then one day after class Noah pulled me to the side and asked me if I was alright.

It was the first time anyone had seen through my mask and it had literally scared the shit out of me.

I remember how hostilely I responded, my words laced with sarcasm and venom. Noah had just smiled and threw his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. "It's about fucking time you got a backbone."

Somehow that conversation, that moment, led to something else and as San put it I "tamed the mother pucker." So when Noah and I were officially over and the dust had settled, Finn was the last person I thought I would end up with. Sure we had shared some kind of moment on his couch that night and he was there for me when I truly needed someone to be, but the idea of a romantic relationship with Finn hadn't even crossed my mind.

I was just so lonely.

Britt and San weren't talking to me, a development that came about once they found out the details of our breakup. I figured that in time we would reconnect and that I could explain the way I was feeling, so I gave them space. And in giving them space, in not fighting, I basically gave up on my two closest friends. I had other people I could turn to, but none of them seemed to understand the hopelessness and loneliness that I was feeling.

It was while I was at dinner with Tina that she brought up Finn for the first time. He was hanging out with Mike that night and the guys wanted to know if we would meet them to play some pool. I think, in a way, Tina knew what I was going through and was just trying to give me something to take my mind off of everything. I didn't have any other plans, save going back to an empty apartment and feeling depressed, so I agreed.

Tina and I met the two of them at a local sports bar, one of those that have huge TV screens lining wall after wall. It was a bit awkward at first, the noise in the room making it hard to talk or hear without leaning in close to each other. As the night went on and pitchers were emptied, I found myself becoming someone different, someone I had always in some small way wanted to be.

When it started to get late, the four of us trudged out of the bar. The night air was chilly and as I stood, waiting for the valet to bring my car, Finn had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It didn't matter that it was freezing out, or that he just had a T-shirt on underneath. He was concerned about my well-being and the thought was more intoxicating that the booze I had just drunk.

None of my friends (save Tina and Mike) were communicating with me, hell most of them had dropped off the face of the planet. I was in a bad place and having someone, anyone, dote on me had felt so wonderful. So the next day when I woke up, hung-over and starving, I called Finn up and met him at our diner.

It was easy to play a role with him and for him not to question it. It was also easy to fall back into our old patterns. I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship; I was just looking for a friend, for someone to care about me and about my life. Somehow in the process of trying to find that, I instead found myself in a relationship that was confusing and undefined.

#

We sit together in the booth silently. Once upon a time I would have cherished the feel of his fingers brushing against my hair, the feel of the heat of his body as he sets next to me. Now all I can think about is the fact that he isn't Noah. On some level I know that he is just searching for some form of comfort, but for once in my life I'm not sure I can give more of myself than I already have.

My body shifts away from him, my head resting against the wall. My lidded eyes scan the faces of our friends before settling on Noah. He is sitting at one of the small round tables, Matt and Mike flanked on each side of him. There is a mischievous grin on his face, a sure sign that he is up to no good. They are doing something with their silverware and napkins that I probably wouldn't understand even if I was fully awake.

As if sensing my gaze, Noah turns so that his eyes meet mine. His eyes scan the scene, his face furrows for a moment, and then he is moving towards the booth. Mike and Matt cajole and heckle him but the words roll off of him as his eyes scan my face.

"Finn, you're stifling the fuck outta my girl," There is a hint of a warning in the tone of his voice and he jerks his head to the side. The arm around my shoulders moves, followed by the hot body and I feel the cool air of the diner sweep across me. It's surprising and I find my eyes shooting open, taking in the two men standing before me.

"We were just talking, Puck," Finn replies his tone defensive, "No need to get your panties in a twist."

"Hudson," there is malice in the word and I find myself sliding out of the booth and stepping between the two men, two friends. I place my hands up and use the last of my energy to literally shove them away from each other. No one speaks, and the silence drags on far longer than it should. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me, holding me up, and then my back is pressed against Noah's chest. For a moment I feel relaxed.

"Enough with the dick measuring," Santana snipes, tugging me away from Noah to sit at a table with her and Britt. I rest against the formica tabletop, my body literally shutting down.

I have this image in my mind of Aden after he was first born. His hands are clenched into little fists and he is looking up at me with this look of pure love. It's the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and it literally took my breath away from me. The image is there, now, right behind my eyelids and as hard as I try I can't force it away.

"I need to go," I mutter as I find myself rising and stumbling out of the diner. I need time to breathe, to force the tightness out of my heart. I also can't put up with the animosity, the tension between the two friends. I know why it's there; know that it will never really evaporate through the years.

And if my history is any indication, then it's only going to get worse.

#

When I had walked in the door I had known immediately that I should just turn around and leave. The smell of coffee permeated the air and brought back a torrent of memories that I tried to block as I made my way to the counter. I placed my order, and stood off to the side as my strawberry scone was plated and my cappuccino frothed.

This had been our spot, Noah and mine, since the day that we had moved to New York. There was something about the atmosphere, the general laid back attitude of the place that we had both loved. It was also so close to our old apartment that it made it the ideal jaunt when we had a coffee or scone craving that needed to be met.

But we had been broken up for a few months and the memories of our trips, of our relationship were still just too painful.

"Berry," the barista called out. I picked up my items and made my way across the room to the small leather chair and sunk into the material. Taking a huge bite of the scone I let out a small moan, and closed my eyes to relish the flavor.

"Rachel?"

The words took me off guard and I remember looking up into Noah's eyes worried about what I would find. He had looked, to put it mildly, wonderful. He had set down in the chair across from mine, his eyes scanning my features.

"No one has heard from you for a few months," there was concern in his voice, but also a bit of relief. "How are things going?"

I didn't want to have this conversation, didn't want to hear about how happy his life was without me, and I couldn't bear to tell him about how unhappy I was in mine.

"Things are fine, I've found a new place to live that is a bit on the outskirts of the city, but it's nice enough and I can afford it." The room suddenly seemed so quiet, so unlike the low hum of noise I was used to.

There was sadness on Noah's face, a resignation in his eyes and in every move that he made. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I smiled sadly at him as I excused myself to take it. It was Finn wanting to know when I was going to be coming over, that he was going to order us some food for supper. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever was going on with Finn, especially not after having seen Noah so I tried to stall the only way I could.

I lied and told Finn I wasn't feeling well and that I would talk to him the next day.

When I finally sat down in the seat across from Noah I could see the slow simmer of anger that was building underneath the surface. "Is he treating you well?" he questioned. I didn't know how to explain to him that Finn and I really didn't even have a relationship, that I wasn't really even sure if I knew what the hell I wanted anymore but that I still wasn't happy.

Instead I responded with a, "Noah, please."

He had dropped his coffee cup on the counter, the clang echoing through the room. I could feel the people looking at us as Noah shook his head and rose from his seat, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. I watched him walk away, the sting in my heart hurting worse than it had in months.

It wasn't until later that night, while I was lying in bed that I realized what I had done. Inadvertently I had pitted the two friends against each other and ruined any relationship they would ever have. I remember the tears that dripped down my cheeks as I had buried my face in my pillow, the felling of self-loathing so strong that I was literally sick with myself.

Sometime during the night I had passed out, not waking until the next morning when there was a loud pounding on my door. I remember flying from my bed and running down the hall, my eye peeking through the small peep-hole to see Finn standing there, fists clenched. I don't know what I was expecting when I opened the door, but it wasn't the site in front of me.

There was dried blood on Finn's shirt, his lip was split open, and I could see the formation of bruises beginning to welt on his face. He had pushed past me and entered my apartment, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stared me down.

"You weren't feeling well, huh?" he questioned, his tone dripping with anger. "I got a nice little visit from Noah last night and I believe I have you to thank for that Rachel."

I couldn't form the words to respond, couldn't find it in myself to acknowledge what he was saying. Setting Finn on the couch, I had grabbed the first aid kit out of my bathroom and began to gently clean and tend to his face.

"You know what though, Rach?" His voice was tight and so unlike the Finn I had come to know. "For all I can care, Puck can go fuck himself. I win, Rachel. I've got you." While the sentiment was supposed to be sweet, I found myself loathing the man in front of me. I wasn't his possession, wasn't his prize. The insinuation made me weary.

But then, when I looked into his eyes, I thought I could still see a bit of the old Finn, the one that would have been hurt that his best friend had done this to him. I had looked over the bruises on his face, my body filling with guilt and I prayed for forgiveness.

* * *

**No lie... I'm absofuckingloutly in love with the next chapter... just thought I would share :)  
Coming up: wishes, closet sex, and a pregnancy?**

******Thanks to those of you who pm'd me about the beta position... The slot has been filled by LadyGambit!**

**N**


	6. Chapter 6

"_**There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, that it ill behooves any of us to find fault with the rest of us." – James Truslow Adams**_

I'm sitting on a bench a block or so away from the diner when Noah finally finds me. His hands are raking through the short stubble of his hair, his mouth muttering a murmur of curses, and there are clear lines of worry on his forehead.

"You don't just fucking take off, Rachel!" his voice is quiet, terse and to the point, "Especially in a city where you don't know your fucking way around."

I'm not really sure how to respond, not sure how to tell him that I couldn't sit in that diner for another minute no matter how hard I tried, so I just shrug my shoulders. The fresh air has calmed my rapid breathing and I think that I have finally composed myself enough that I'm not going to break. I can tell that he is more than a little frustrated, and a bit angry, and I'm not sure how to handle everything that is inside of me while still trying to help him.

"I just needed a minute," I whisper as he sits down on the bench beside me, "I just needed to breathe."

He looks at me through the darkness of the night, his eyes settling on my tired and worn face and nods his head. I've always been one to talk about my problems, to vent and rant every little detail until some small part of me feels better. So I know, without a doubt, that my silence is a bit unnerving to him. I find myself opening my mouth, to speak or explain, but words the just won't come out.

Instead I find myself looking up at the stars letting the few small tears fall down my face.

"As a child," my voice breaks on the word child and I pause for a moment before continuing, forcing the memories of Aden out of my mind. "As a child, I used to send every wish, hope, or dream I had up to the stars. I would sit in my window, eyes clenched tight, with my face towards the sky and whisper the things that no one, sometimes even myself, knew that I wanted."

I'm giving him a piece of me, a part that no one else knows, and I find myself pausing to choose my words carefully. I find my face turning from the stars to look at him, silenly hoping he understands what I am telling him.

"I've wished for so many things over the years," I continue cautiously, "some inconsequential, some in regards to my career, and some out of loneliness. I've gone to these very stars with sorrow and tears in my eyes begging for things that never even seemed a possibility."

I look back up at the stars and I picture Aden cradled in my arms, his head resting against my neck. His breathing is soft and gentle, each exhalation a puff on my skin. I press a kiss on his temple, inhaling his scent. He smells like dirt and grass and honey; it's literally the best smell in the world.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say that Finn wasn't a big part of those wishes when we were in high school. Back then I thought I was in love with him, that he was my forever. But the thing with wishes, Noah, is that as you get older they change and grow into something much more meaningful. Lately, I've found my wishes, almost all of them, are about _you_."

I pause for a moment, letting the words linger between us. "I know that you and Finn have this whole dominant male peacocking thing, but it's not needed. I love you, Noah, so much that sometimes it's just hard to breathe. I also know that you're hurting right now over Quinn; that you are trying to deal with it on your own. I just want you to know that I'm trying to understand, no matter how much it hurts, I'm trying."

I don't expect him to respond, after all Noah is not one to share his feelings lightly. I stand up and silently wait for him to digest everything I've been saying. When he finally rises and stands beside me, his face is twisted in confusion and frustration. We begin the short walk back to his truck, but he pauses after just a few steps and looks at me.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Just the truth," I reply as gently as I can.

"I'm never going to be the type of guy that can sit and spill his feelings like Finn, I'm not like that and you know it." He runs his hands over his face, a sigh escaping his lips. "In so many ways you've made my life miserable, Rach, ever since I met you. You make me feel too much, and sometimes I just can't take it. All I want to fucking do right now is shut down but I look at you and I just can't."

His hands are scraping against his scalp, his eyes closed as he continues to talk.

"I fucking love you too, Rach, so much that it terrifies me. I saw Finn sitting with you and literally all I could see was his fingers touching your fucking hair and I just snapped. I know you're trying so hard that it's literally draining you. You think I didn't see that stupid fucking show face your wore all day, that I didn't see how much you were freaking out on the inside? I _know_ you, Rach, better than anyone else. Sure Quinn was a bitch and you didn't really like her, but you care about people Rach, way more than you fucking should and this shit is bothering you."

Noah opens his eyes to look at me, the furrows on his forehead relaxing slightly. Leaning over, he places a gentle peck on my temple, a small hum escaping his lips.

"Let's head back to the hotel."

#

That night I dream of Aden.

His mop of hair is bouncing up and down as he jumps on the couch. Finn is sitting next to him, head thrown back in laughter. It's his victory dance that really kills me. His arms are flailing in front of him in a circular motion to a tune only he can hear. He has on the biggest smile, his eyes are full of excitement, and his cheeks are tinged red.

In the dream, I can't help but laugh at the pure joy on his face, the way he sticks his tongue between his teeth in a teasing gesture. He squeals in excitement, when he sees me out of the corner of his eyes, launching himself off the couch to give me an overzealous hug and sloppy kisses.

When I wake up, it's a bit like having my world tilt on its axis.

The sun outside is shining brightly, Noah is laying in bed next to me his arm thrown around my waist, and I've never been so confused in my entire life.

#

"Hey mopey-mc-moperson," Britt calls out across the dining room, her eyes looking over at Noah and I before raising an eyebrow at me. "Ditch the man and come sit with me and San."

The three of us sit at a small, separate, table. The dining room of the hotel is packed with people mulling about, drinking coffee and having breakfast. The rest of our group has sequestered themselves in the corner the farthest away from where we are sitting. Bursts of laughter and loud chatter can be heard.

"Are you alright?" San questions, as she tears into her bagel. "What happened last night was kind of messed up."

I pick at the cinnamon roll on my plate, ripping small pieces off and placing them in my mouth as I think about Noah and my conversation the night before. I take a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth of the liquid warm my insides.

"We had a good talk and everything is fine."

Either Britt and San are more skeptical than I had originally thought or I entirely missed something yesterday, by the look on both of their faces.

"You stormed out of the restaurant last night!" Britt exclaims with exasperation as if she is not used to my diva-like fits.

"I didn't storm out," I reply petulantly, "I was just really tired."

"Puck fucking went berserk." San mutters as her eyes dart across the room to look at him, "He walked out after you and you were just gone. I don't think I have ever seen him that worried or that pissed before. Finn made some smart ass comment about him getting what he deserved. I think if Puck wasn't so concerned about finding you that Finn would probably be sitting over there right now, with a few bruises."

"I was a block away!" I groan at the obvious over-dramatization of the night's events. "Noah literally found me within 5 minutes."

I take another drink of my coffee and sneak a glance across the room. Mike, Matt, and Kurt are sitting between Noah and Finn. I'm not sure if they consciously or unconsciously put such a large gap between the two men, but it's there plain as day.

"Do you ever wonder," Britt's says soothingly, "what would have happened if you and Finn had stayed together? Do you think you would have been happy with him?" I try not to act surprised by her question, and take a moment to contemplate how to answer it.

"I wasn't happy with Finn in high school and staying with him would have been a huge mistake. He was so concerned about what everyone else thought of our relationship that he wasn't really present for any of it. Was I hurt when we finally broke up? Of course I was, but I was also more than a little relived. I wasn't really expecting a relationship with Noah to happen, but it did. I love him, so much and he makes me happy. Isn't that all that really matters?"

They are quiet for a moment, absorbing my words. Britt nods her head and smiles at me, her arm wrapping around and pulling me into a sideways hug. Santana rolls her eyes, but she has a huge smile on her face. I feel like somehow, in some way, I have just passed an unspoken test.

"Then why," San questions, "do you look so blue today? You and Puck are obviously still sickeningly in love." She rolls her eyes at me, teasingly.

"I had a dream that's just bothering me a little bit." The minute the words leave my lips, I mutter a small curse under my breath. There is no way I can explain to San and Britt that this is my second chance, no way I can explain that in the future I am with Finn and that we have a son together. I can tell by the looks on both of their faces that they are dying to ask questions, so I ry my hardest to avoid and deflect.

"So after the funeral this morning, before we start the drive back home, why don't we stop at the mall and do some shopping?"

"Why don't you tell us why you're avoiding the topic you know we really want to talk about?" San questions, amusement in her eyes. I look over her shoulder, signaling desperately with my eyes at Noah. He looks over, sees the panic on my face, and literally starts laughing. Jerk.

"Nice try," Britt chuckles.

"There is nothing to talk about," my voice sounds less firm than I want it to which only seems to encourage them. After a few minutes of heckling I finally give in, letting a groan out as I drop my head onto the table. "I just had a dream about a beautiful little boy," a small sigh escapes my lips.

"Oh my fucking god," Santana squeals causing everyone in the dining room, including our friends, to stop and stare. My head shoots up from the table and I shoot her a look that is both filled with panic and anger. "Keep moving on people, nothing to see here," she bellows through her laughter.

The eyes turn away slowly and I can feel the blush on my cheeks heating my skin. "So NOT funny," I growl under my breath, running a hand through my hair in embarrassment.

"Rachel, are you pregnant?" Santana continues quietly, as if no one was staring at us. "Because that would explain the strange behavior and the new eating habits you have seemed to pick up."

A throat clears behind Brittany and we all look up, startled to see Finn standing there. His eyes are as big as saucers and he has a small frown on his face. I'm not sure if he is still upset about the previous night or if he heard what Santana said, but he is studiously avoiding looking at me. "We need to get going shortly, so you guys should head up and start getting ready."

I'm so mortifyingly embarrassed that I rise from the table and sprint out of the room.

#

As hard as I try, I can't find a moment to be alone with Britt and San without someone watching or hearing what we are talking about. The absurdity that they would jump from me having a dream to me being pregnant isn't lost on me, but I need to clarify before one of them opens their big mouths and everyone is talking.

Finally, at the reception after the funeral, San grabs me and Britt and literally drags us down the hall away from everyone. We duck into an empty room, the door clicking closed behind us.

"I'm not pregnant," I blurt out quickly before they can get a word in. San reaches into her purse and whips out a box, holding it out to me with her eyebrow raised. "Where in the hell," I question in awe.

"We had to stop at the gas station on the way here," Britt has a mischievous smile on her face, "we told the guys that we had to pee and that it couldn't wait."

"That's all fine and good," I reply my hands flailing through the air with exasperation, "but I _know_ I'm not pregnant. I'm on the pill."

San shakes the box in front of me and I realize they aren't going to believe me until I pee on the damn thing. I stuff the box into my purse as we exit the room, rolling my eyes, and head towards the only bathroom in this tiny box of a place.

As we walk past their table, I hear Kurt mutter something about girls going to the bathroom in groups and ignore the death glares Santana and Brittany shoot him. Britt looks so nervous that her face is literally pale and Santana stands in front of the bathroom door shooting glares at anyone who looks our direction. I make my way into one of the tiny stalls and rip the box open.

Three minutes later, the two of them are huddling over the negative test and I can't help but laugh at the look on their faces. "I told you I wasn't pregnant," I reply softly.

"I just thought," San mutters.

"Puck has super sperm," Britt answers.

Laughter escapes our lips and I find myself smashed between the two in a group hug. "Since you couldn't keep your opinions to yourself, San, you get to be the one to talk to Finn." She shrugs her shoulders and shimmies out the door, zeroing right in on Finn and grabbing him. I watch the two of them disappear down the hall. Britt makes her way over to Quinn's husband, stopping to talk to him for a moment.

I'm a bit surprised by the sadness that seems to overtake me once they've gone.

I make my way slowly through the crowd, looking for Noah. I can't seem to find him, so I sit down next to Tina listening as her and Mike talk to Mr. Schuester. I'm a bit surprised when Noah pops up behind me, an unidentifiable look on his face.

"Rachel, we need to talk, now."

#

The last time I was in a closet with Noah was senior year of high school. Somehow he had convinced me that skipping was the 'right thing to do' and we had ended up spending all of first and second period smashed against the wall of the janitor's closet.

The closet he finds, and pulls me into, is not a janitor's closet. There are a few small boxes in the corner and a small shelf at the back, but otherwise it is completely empty. "There is something going on," Noah says, "there has to be something going on. You girls have been acting so weird all day. Then Finn comes up to me after the service and fucking tells me to take better care of you. I'm not sure what the hell is going on, but you're going to tell me."

This whole thing has gotten so blown out of proportion that I can't help but groan. Of course some whiff of this would get back to Noah. I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends a bit as I bite my lip. "Well, see the thing is I had this dream last night. When I told San and Britt about it they kind of came to the wrong conclusion."

"And what conclusion was that?" his voice is gruff through the quiet. I can barely see him in the darkness of the room. I figure that the quicker I get this over with the better.

"They thought I was pregnant. Finn was obviously eavesdropping and overheard."

Complete silence.

I'm freaking out and I can hear the whoosh of my heart in my ears. The words spill out of my mouth like word-vomit (as Noah likes to call it). "I'm not pregnant. I had a dream last night about a little boy and when I told them they immediately jumped to that conclusion. I told them I wasn't but they didn't believe me so they made me take a test in the bathroom. Apparently San and Britt think that you have super sperm or something and wouldn't take my word for the fact that I'm on the pill. San is down the hall now trying to explain it to Finn so he doesn't say anything to anyone. I'm so sorry I even opened my damn mouth this morning. They were both harassing me about last night and when…"

My words are cut off by his lips.

Grabbing my hips, he picks me up and pushes me against the wall manipulating and molding my body to his. I can't help the shiver that goes down my spine as his hands tangle in my hair and his teeth nip at my bottom lip.

I pull away, gasps escaping my lips. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

His mouth traces a trail from my chin to my ear, where he nibbles on it, his tongue flicking out to soothe the bites. I feel his breaths poof out over the wet skin as he whispers "Don't apologize, for some reason the thought of you pregnant with my child is fucking hot."

Picking my legs up, he wraps them around his waist. I feel him maneuver beneath me and hear the whoosh as his pants hit the floor. He reaches down and shifts my skirt up, sliding my underwear to the side. With a single thrust, I can feel all of him fully inside me.

My eyes are clenched tight but I can hear our labored breaths bouncing through the small room. An occasional grunt escapes his lips as he moves and I find myself biting my lip to keep from crying out. My legs tighten around him, trying to bring him closer

It's too much and not enough at the same time.

"I love you," I cry as my eyes open. The intensity in his eyes is what sends me over the edge and I find his name tumbling off my lips over and over again.

* * *

**So I know this took like forever to get out... I've been having massive lap top issues that have resulted in more cursing and google searches for lap top parts than I care to admit.**

**Next chapter is kinda angsty... but angst is good... right?  
****Coming up: fights, history, and a whole smudge of Puckleberry**

**N**


	7. Chapter 7

"_**How we remember, what we remember, and why we remember form the most personal map of our individuality." –Christina Baldwin**_

Our first fight, since I've been sent back, is a few days later. We're sitting in the kitchen, containers of Chinese food around us, when I mention that I haven't seen him play his guitar in awhile. It's just a casual observation because honestly I miss hearing him play and I'm trying not to push him this time.

It's only once I see the look on his face as he slams his sweet and sour pork down, that I realize how he is interpreting my comment. His mouth is set in a scowl, his hands are clenched tight, and his face is slowly turning red.

"I thought we've discussed this," his voice sounds strained. "I don't need another mother pushing me into fucking anything, Rach. I'll work on it when I want to work on it. Just back off."

His chair skids against the linoleum of our floor, the scrapping echoing through the room. His music is a sensitive topic for him, one that often causes him to close off. It's not that he isn't any good, rather he is _very_ good. It's something his mother is constantly nagging and harassing him about, which I know because I've heard her before.

"I didn't mean it like that," I reply softly, "I just miss hearing you play. Even when you're just tinkering with it for fun it soothes me."

"Well maybe you should go get Finn to soothe you," his words are bitter and a likely after effect of his anger and issues with the week prior. His hands flail through the air, his frustration clearly showing. I can't help the wince that crosses my face or the hurt I'm feeling.

"It's not like that with him, Noah, and you know it. I gave him a hug because he was hurting. You didn't hear me say anything when you hugged Santana or Brittany. I fucking pick you time and time again and you still throw him in my face." I'm standing up now, my clenched fists shaking.

"Whatever." His shoulders are tense as he rises from the table, his food left splattered on the surface. "I'm going for a walk." I listen to the sound of his footsteps and the sound of the door slamming behind him.

I'm fucking things up again, and only after I admit this do the tears start falling. I pack up the now cold food, shoving the containers onto an empty shelf in our fridge. I hate that when he storms out I worry. It's not that I don't trust him; believe me I've made mistakes on that front too, but more that I worry about him getting into a fight or getting hurt. I pull out a washrag and scrub down the surface of the table. When it's so clean that the light literally reflects off of it, I drop to the floor and begin scrubbing the tiles.

I scrub every surface in that kitchen, until the whole thing smells like lemons and shines so bright that it hurts my swollen eyes. Then I go down the hall and crawl into the empty bed. My tears stain my face and the pillow below me and I toss and turn until I hear the click of the front door.

I wake up the next morning so physically exhausted that I wonder if I am even going to be able to force myself out of bed. The day is gray. Clouds are lingering low in the sky and it looks like it's going to rain. It matches my mood perfectly considering how little sleep I've had.

I have to literally peel myself from the bed and basically throw myself into the shower. The warm water soothes my outer aches but does little to dull the numb feeling building inside of me. I wonder if I was given a thousand chances if I would ever be able to get one right. I find myself sitting on the floor of the tub, letting my tears mix with the stream of water pouring down over me.

I can hear the sobs escaping my lips and echoing through the small room. I wonder if he can hear them down the hall and if he can, what he is thinking. I've gone through losing him once before, something that I barely lived through the first time. I feel like in so many ways I'm even more invested in the relationship this time.

I have so much on the line; too much.

I'm panicking and I can feel the tension building up in my chest as I compel myself to try and breathe. There is a knock on the door, but I ignore it trying to focus on forcing the air into my lungs. When I see the shower curtain get pushed back and feel the body sink down behind me, I fight every instinct within me to just lean back against him.

I learned the hard way in high school not to let people see you when you are at your weakest. Tears may make me human, but they also made me an easy target very quickly. I don't like people seeing me cry and I hate the way the tears make me feel. Noah knows this, knows that I hate crying; it's like I'm exposed, as if someone has ripped me open for all to see. Which is why, when he wraps his arms around me and literally pulls me back into him, I can't help that the tears fall harder.

"Shh," he whispers his hands stroking through my hair. "I need you to breathe for me baby." I take in a huge gulp of air and it burns the whole way down. I'm coughing as it makes its way past my throat and into my lungs when I look at his face.

"I'm so sorry," the words tumble from my lips like the tears tumble from my face, "I can't lose you; I just can't. I'm so fucking sorry."

His hands are shaking and his face is pale, his head moving slowly back and forth. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I got into it with my mother yesterday before our talk and I was already on edge. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I spent half the night walking around town thinking about what a fucking idiot I am."

I burrow my face into his neck, my hair sticking to the wet material of his t-shirt. We sit together on the floor of the tub until the water turns cold. Yes, we are fighting, but we are also talking.

It's a step in the right direction.

#

The first time we tried a relationship, our sophomore year of high school, we lasted all of three days before my conscious kicked in. At the time I was in major _like_ with Finn and Noah was preoccupied with Quinn and babygate. The distraction we provided for each other was short lived and mostly consisted of stolen moments and making out. The guilt, however, lasted much longer and resulted in my decision to end the relationship.

So when Noah came up to me after my breakup with Finn I wasn't really sure how to take it. We weren't exactly friends and the fact that he had noticed that I was struggling really shook me. The fact that I told him off instead of caving shocked him and only seemed to increase his respect for me. Suddenly it was like we saw each other in a different light and that, well, that changed everything.

Surprisingly, we started out as friends.

We started sitting next to each other in Glee, acknowledging each other in the hallway, and sometimes we would take our lunch out to the bleachers and just sit and talk. It was during one of these talks that Noah told me about his father leaving them as a child. It was also during one of these talks that I explained how hurt I was over everything that had happened with Shelby.

It was around the time that he started opening up that I realized how much I actually enjoyed being around him and spending time with him. I was more than a little aware of Noah's reputation among the women of our town and I had heard him referenced more than casually while at temple. None of that seemed to matter, though, when the metal of the bleachers dug into our back and he looked over at me and smiled.

Our relationship began to change, slowly. We began hanging out after school; I would sit on his couch with my nose stuck in a book while he sat on the floor in front of me, the sounds of Mario filling the room. Sometimes we would go off-roading in his truck, laughing as the mud splattered up the sides, with the windows down and music blaring through the open air. I began to help Noah with his homework, he with helping me to learn to play the guitar.

I felt a comfort with him that I hadn't experienced with anyone else and there was an ease in just being with him. Somehow, in the midst of everything, he became my haven.

The kiss that changed everything happened on a Tuesday.

It was like any other day in so many aspects. We were sitting on the bleachers bickering about our English assignment.

"Jesus Christ, Rach." He muttered with a bit of amusement in his voice, "You're eating this shit up, aren't you?"

I had pulled the book of poems from his hands and opened the earmarked page my eyes scanning the famous Gary Boone poem. Without waiting for further comment I began to read the poem.

"Of all the moments we in our hearts desire, surely it's of this that we most dream." I found my eyes looking up from the page to find him looking back at me; there was an intensity in his gaze that startled me.

"To bare our arms while covert eyes inquire, what passions are revealed within their gleam?" He reached over and gently brushed a billowing strand of hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear.

"To touch, to hold, here more than arms embrace. For caresses gently gesture, 'Guards, dismissed!'" Suddenly it seemed like he was sitting so much closer than before. My eyes looked between him and the page, my breathing hitched.

"And silent lips accept with trembling grace, this sweet surrender, signaled by a kiss." And suddenly his palm was pressed against my flushed cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb caressing my lips. Each movement sent a shock through me and I found myself panting against his fingers, our eyes locked in a silent battle.

I remember the way his lips felt, just barely ghosting over mine, and the way his hand tangled in my hair and tugged softly on the ends. I remember the feeling of his shoulders as I gripped them when he added pressure to the kiss, the metal of the bleachers digging into my side.

It was in that moment that I realized that nothing would ever be the same again. I knew then that I wanted Noah for the rest of my life.

#

Things are a bit tense, and not in the good sexual way. We've gotten out of the shower and dried off, but I'm still trembling with cold and Noah is suspiciously quiet. There is always this awkward lull after a fight, almost as if we are trying to adjust to the moment, to each other.

I find myself in my reading chair, curled up with a throw and book. Normally, I find it easy to immerse myself in a new world, to lose myself for hours in the characters and the plot. Today, however, it's difficult. It isn't until I read the same paragraph five times that I let out a sigh of frustration and drop the paperback onto my small side table.

I listen to the hum of the washer and dryer, the sound of other people in the building moving about, and force my eyes out the window beside me. I watch the people walking below, bustling up and down the busy street in such a hurry to get somewhere.

There is an anxiousness that is gnawing in my stomach and I can't help but worry my lower lip in response. Yes, we are taking steps in the right direction, I acknowledge silently. But I can't help but worry and wonder if our small steps are enough to save us. Fighting has been a huge part of Noah's and my relationship. It's something we've done for years, for as long as I can remember.

Are patterns really that easy to break?

#

Our first fight, in our new relationship, was brutal.

We had been dating for a few weeks and there was still a bit of that new relationship awkwardness. I wasn't used to his brash words _and_ behavior, wasn't used to his insatiable need to _always_ be right, or the way he saw _me_. There was something about the way he looked at me as if he could truly see every part of me, see through me, which unnerved me.

A rumor was going around the school that Noah and Santana had hooked up at a party that he had attended while I was on vacation with Dad and Daddy in New York. I had studiously forced myself to ignore the doubts that were brewing in my head, had plastered my show face on, and spent the day brooding behind my smile.

I was on my way to the lunch room when I saw the picture plastered to my locker.

Noah was sitting on a couch, with a drink in his hand, arm slung around Santana's shoulders. Her head way resting on his shoulder and they both had the biggest grins on their faces. I remember the feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach and the feel of the bile rising in my throat and burning at my lungs.

I couldn't move, couldn't think.

A huge part of why my relationship with Finn had floundered so much the previous year was because of a lie involving the exact same girl. I looked at the way his fingers intimately curled around her shoulder, the way her head had nestled right into his shoulder, and I could see the intimacy in the actions.

Noah was standing at his locker talking to Mike when I found him. He turned around to look at me, a small smile on his lips which quickly dropped when he actually looked at my face. I knew that I couldn't speak, knew that the moment I opened my mouth and began to talk that tears would fall with the words.

So instead I took the picture and chucked it at his head.

We were standing in the middle of the hallway, our classmates doing little to hide their rubbernecking as they swarmed around us. I remember the way he bent down to pick up the picture, his face furrowing and his eyes squinting as he looked at the image.

And then he went pale.

I took that as all the conformation I needed and turned on my heel, shoving past our fellow classmates the tears burning at my eyelids. I made it all the way to the door before I heard his voice calling to me through the crowd.

I didn't stop, didn't even pause.

I could feel the tears before I even made it to the sidewalk. There were a few students milling about in the parking lot, all of them turning to look at me as I ran past. It was at the end of the parking lot where I had run into Finn and Matt.

My breathing was ragged and I could do little to hide the tear streaks as I begged them for a ride. Matt had looked behind me, clearly hearing the sound of the clank as the door slammed against the bricks and had simply ushered me into his car.

"So that's it?" Noah had yelled as he reached the car, his face masked in anger. "You're just giving up then? You're just like the rest of them." His voice was seething with disdain.

I had lifted my head from my hands so that he could clearly see my tear streaked face. I looked right into his eyes and gave him my best show smile I could muster. I watched the shocked look flit across his face, saw the way his features fell, and let Matt drive me away.

With as much as my dads traveled, I was used to the silence of an empty house, used to being on my own. That night was different though. I remember the way the comforter had felt as I wrapped it around me, the way my pillow brushed against my cheeks sticking to the tears.

It was around midnight when he knocked on my window and literally scared the shit out of me.

Dad and Daddy were protective, so much so that when they traveled they made sure I had a baseball bat in my room (as if I would ever need the protection in tiny little Lima). I found myself clutching to the wood that night, my hands shaking as I squinted out the window into the darkness of the night.

I wasn't sure what I expected (someone looking to rape and murder a poor young girl like myself), but it definitely wasn't Noah sitting on the branch of the tree. I pulled the window open, planning to curse him out, or better scare him with the baseball bat like he scared me.

Instead I found my words lost to me as he looked at the bat in my hand and chuckled.

"You're holding that wrong." He sounded incredulous, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "You need to have your hands lower, down by the base."

My fists clenched and I found my hands twitching to slam the window down.

"Thanks for the batting lesson," I replied snidely as I leaned the bat against my desk.

"It's not what you think." He responded, leaning back against the bark of the tree. For a moment I was taken back that he didn't try and sneak through the window, that he wasn't trying to sugar coat and kiss away the issue.

I leaned my head against the upper pane of the glass, my eyes searching his face. Noah was a good liar and I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to tell for certain whether he was being honest. The fact bothered me more than I was willing to admit.

"The picture," I grumbled as I turned my face away from him choosing to stare at a scuff in the bark by his head, "there was an intimacy in it."

"Santana and I are close," Noah spoke clearly but slowly. I could tell that he was trying to choose his words carefully. "We're friends, B, that's all."

I scoffed and couldn't help but look into his eyes. "I could tell," the sarcasm dripped from my lips and I found myself moving to shut the window.

"I fucking love you," he blurted his hands moving to scrub at his face in stress. "I wouldn't do that to you and I'm not sure who took that fucking picture and taped it on your locker but when I find out they are seriously going to fucking pay for the pain they have put you through."

I was surprised by the sincerity in his voice and on his face. I found myself moving away from the ledge and signaling him to climb through the window.

"You're not going to like hit me with bat if I come in there, are you?" His voice was hesitant but also somewhat teasing.

I shook my head and moved away from the window and the bat, sitting on the edge of my bed. I needed time to process the events of the night, needed to think about everything and I was exhausted from the day.

I found myself pulling him next to me in bed, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around me. Through the silence in the room I whispered, "We're not done talking about this."

"I know," he replied softly, his lips brushing against the back of my head, "Whenever you're ready."

#

Our relationship has never been easy. It's always been hard work and compromises, and promises that sometimes don't get met. We've both made mistakes and said and done things that we later regretted. But at the core of it there is a love and respect that we both have for the other that makes things alright in the end.

I get up from my chair and make my way into the kitchen, mixer at the ready. I pull out the ingredients for my 'I'm Sorry' cookies relishing in the simple task of baking. It's only when I'm putting the dough on the cookie sheets that I realize what I'm hearing.

As the strings of Sweet Caroline begin to play through our living room, I continue to cut the star shaped cookies, and can't help but smile softly.

Maybe, just maybe, things would be ok.

* * *

**Can something be semi-fixed? Stupid laptop :)**

**Anyways...**

**Hope you enjoyed the angst!**

**Coming up: A trip home and a new job!**

**N**


	8. Chapter 8

"_**I don't wish to be everything to everyone, but I would like to be something to someone." -Javan**_

The thing about missing someone, I mean really truly missing them, is that the longer you are apart the harder it gets. Each day, sometime between the stream of sleep and consciousness, I think of Aden and each day the memories get harder and harder to bare. The dreams and memories are relentless; a barrage of images from my future, which is dangling in the balance, attacks my subconscious mind. Each little snapshot, a moment I will forever remember, becomes further etched into my memory.

The wobble in Aden's gait as he took his first steps, and the determination etched upon his face as he first learned to run. The way he cowered from the gorillas at the zoo, eyes wide in amazement and fear. The way the rubber swimmers scratched and scraped at my skin as we floated about the pool, his body trembling with fear and with laughter. The way he would cuddle into my side, his head resting against my chest, as I lay with him in bed and read him his nighttime story.

I'm worried that as time goes on I will forget him; the way he smelled, the sound of his laugh, the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled. The longer I stay away from him, the longer I am back here with Noah, the guiltier I feel for leaving him behind. The thought that really, truly, terrifies me though, happens just after I wake up. I wonder, sometimes, if it wouldn't be better if I could just forget it all.

#

I've never really believed in luck. I'm more of an 'always be prepared just in case,' kind of girl. So when an emergency casting call gets sent out for a show that is actually ON Broadway, I don't hesitate (even though it's only a minor part). The moment I walk into the room and begin to read the lines on the page, I feel the rightness of it all. The moment, the character, the entire scene plays out like my life, almost as if this part was written for me.

They call me back that afternoon.

It's a tedious process of "hurry up and wait"; a limbo of sorts. I find myself throwing my frustration, my fears, everything I have into the role. After hours of hard work there are two of us left, I'm already physically and emotionally exhausted.

I'm not in the least bit surprised when they tell me that I've gotten the part.

I wait until I get back home to let the tears fall. Noah is on the couch, his guitar on his lap, and a composition notebook open next to him. He looks up when I enter and I can't help the huge smile or the squeal that escapes my lips at just seeing him.

His arms are around me, picking me up and twirling me through the living room. An uncontainable laughter bubbles from deep inside both of us. It's only when we are both out of breath that we collapse on the couch.

"I fucking knew you could do it, baby. You're my little star." I can't help but beam at the pride in his voice.

#

My new job is cause for celebration, which is how I find myself out on a Thursday night. San and Britt have managed to set the whole thing up and invite everyone along. It isn't until we've left the restaurant and we're at the club, the music pulsing around us, that I realize I haven't really even looked at Finn the entire night. For some reason, I feel guilty, but try to push the thought out of my mind as quickly as I can.

After I've had a few drinks, I let Noah pull me to the dance floor. Our bodies are swaying to the rhythm of the music and I can't help but think all sorts of dirty things. Noah is keeping me close to him, his hands on my hips, when suddenly Finn walks out and taps Noah on the shoulder. He has a sheepish grin on his face, but I can feel the undercurrent of tension that is boiling between the two.

"Whatever," Noah mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. His nonchalance is an act so absurd that I think Santana and Brittany can see his glare from all the way across the room. "I'll get us some more drinks, babe." He wraps his arm tightly around my waist, his lips lingering on my temple and then he walks away.

"You two need to play nice," I find myself muttering as Finn wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. His arms wrap all the way around me and I find myself relaxing into his familiar embrace. I can feel the eyes of our friends on us; feel them watching each movement that we make.

"I'm trying Rach," Finn answers so softly, I can barely hear his voice above the sound of the music. His rhythm hasn't improved much in the years since we were in Glee and I find myself leading him. "You were mine first."

I want to literally scream at the top of my lungs. I'm sick of the pissing contest, sick of constantly defending my decisions to everyone. I can feel the tips of his fingers grazing the skin on my back and find myself pulling away from him. His touch brings memories back that I try and fight even as I look into his eyes. Something about meeting his gaze makes more of the memories rush back and I'm suddenly so confused. "Finn, I'm with Noah now and you need to accept that." My voice comes out gentler than I would like it to.

There is a nervous tension between us as he pulls me back to him. My back is rigid and I am trying with all my might to bite my tongue and not lay into the man in front of me. I don't know what he is expecting out of this conversation, but whatever it is, it sure as hell isn't happening.

"I'm trying, Rach," his voice is hesitant but strong as he speaks loudly over the music so that I can hear him, "I really am. But it doesn't mean that it's easy to see you two all over each other."

"Noted," my voice is tight and strained and I find myself willing the song to finish. I look over his shoulder at Noah, who is standing at the bar a gaggle of girls around him. He looks up from his drink towarrds the two of us and meets my eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.

By the time the song ends I've worked myself up into a tizzy. I'm so upset and irate that I storm past everyone, slamming the bathroom door behind me. This is supposed to be my night; we are supposed to be celebrating and instead it's slowly turning into a shit storm of drama. Tina and Brittany are right behind me and they click the lock behind them, their eyes scanning my face, trying to read my emotions.

"I'm done," I state, my arms thrown up in the air, "I'm fucking done with all of them." I can feel the tears threatening to spill over my lids as my voice rises.

"I can't be fucking everything to everyone. This was supposed to be my night; we were supposed to be celebrating _**me**_!" I lean against the sink, my shoulders sagging in defeat. "Instead I have to listen to Finn telling me that I was _his_ first and watch Noah flirt with a bunch of Barbie's in an attempt to piss me off because I'm dancing with Finn. Can't either of them just fucking grow up?"

Britt leans her head on my shoulder and I can feel Tina rubbing her hand gently along the expanse of my back. "They're stupid." Britt states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Misguided," Tina corrects. "I'm pretty sure that Santana is out there right now scaring the life out of both of them." For some reason this comment causes all of us to chuckle softly. I wipe the few tears from my face and try to fix my makeup the best that I can.

"I think," I sigh and close my eyes, "I need a night away."

"Hell yes, girls night, I'm on it," Britt squeals in excitment, pulling out her phone and texting San. Moments later she's bursting her way into the bathroom. She has a scowl on her face and her hair is literally standing up in some areas.

"Fucking boys, let's blow this joint." Santana growls, her hand reaching out and grabbing mine.

I'm ushered through the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of the guys as I'm shoved out the door. Before we even get in the cab, I can hear the chime of my phone alerting me of a new text. I've decided I'm done with anymore drama for the night, so I had Britt the phone, with instructions to text Noah and Finn that I'm refusing to speak to either of them for the rest of the night.

For some reason this makes Santana hugely proud. "Shit, B, you've finally grown some balls when it comes to those two. It's about damn time!"

#

I wake up the next morning, a blizzard of pillows around me, and a heavy feeling in my stomach. San and Britt are in their kitchen, whispering quietly as they both sip on coffee and munch on scones. Tina is sprawled on the couch, a gentle snore escaping her lips. I fight the strong urge to delay my departure. I want to go sit down with them; gossip and chat, maybe even nibble on my own scone and sip my coffee. Anything, really, to delay the inevitable, but instead I grab a scone and a cup of coffee and call a cab to come pick me up, whispering goodbyes as I head down to the lobby.

When I finally make it back to my apartment I can't help the guilt that is starting to eat me up inside. Isn't running from my problems what got me in this position in the first place? As I get off the elevator, I pass by the laundry area, and begin to get a familiar feeling, one that I would get after taking a walk of shame. I can feel our neighbors scanning over me, noting my previous night's now wrinkled ensemble, and quietly unlock my door.

I make my way quietly into the apartment, quickly taking note of the body lying sprawled on the couch. A blanket is wrapped haphazardly around Noah, tucked and twisted so much that it's hardly covering him. I can see the lines of tension in his face, the way his brow is puckered with worry. It's a steep contrast to how he normally peaceful why he looks when he is sleeping. I place a soft kiss on the lines, letting my hand linger on his cheek before making my way to our bedroom.

I pull off my dress and heels, grabbing one of Noah's shirts to throw over my head. Grabbing my book from the nightstand I make my way back towards my reading chair in the corner of the living room. I'm half way down the hallway when I see him. He has dark bags under his eyes and his shoulders are sagged, he looks exhausted and I wonder if he slept just as fitfully as I did.

Our eyes meet and I can see a sadness in them that makes me break. My chest is contracting so harshly that it makes it hard to breathe and I find my breaths catching in my throat. He moves slowly towards me, his hands wrapping around my waist and pushing me against the wall, his body molding to mine.

"I'm so fucking sorry," his voice is broken, deep with worry and his hands tangle into my hair and his lips meet mine, folding and wrestling with first the top and then the bottom. I can feel his fingers tracing the line of the shirt against my thighs and I wrap my arms around him, playing with the stubble at the base of his neck. His mouth moves from my lips to my ear and I feel him nibble it gently. "I'm such a jerk, you deserve so much better. I fucked up and I am so sorry. I love you, B."

He lifts my legs to wrap around him, pulling me closer to him, as he nuzzles my neck. I can feel the beat of his heart against my chest, the steady rhythm soothing me like a balm. "I thought you weren't coming back." His voice is rough, grainy with exhaustion.

"You need to stop comparing yourself with Finn." I prod him gently, my voice almost a whisper. "There is no comparison." He nods his head into my neck and I swear I can feel wetness on my skin. My hands rub gently against his scalp, my nails massaging the area. I stop the massaging for a moment and pull his face up so he can look me in the eyes. I need him to understand how serious I am. "I'm not leaving you."

I let him digest my words for a moment before continuing. "But you need to stop reverting to your Puck-like ways every time you get pissed. How the fuck do you think I felt seeing you with those girls? And don't think I didn't know what you were trying to do mister."

"Rach," he whispered huskily almost pleadingly, "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, "more than you will ever realize."

#

Lima, Ohio is everything I remember it to be from my childhood. The quaintness of the neighborhoods, the small town charm, the people; everything is the same. Everything that is, except for me. I turn onto Main Street and drive past the high school and a few shops before pulling into the 7-11.

Something about being home makes me nostalgic and I find myself purchasing a grape slushie and sipping on it as I continue to drive towards my old house. The roads and routes are familiar to me, yet I find myself staring out the window looking at the people I pass. I've avoided this place since I've been back, the familiarity of it all, running from the memories.

When I pull into the driveway, I'm not surprised to find that Dad and Daddy aren't even home. I had foregone calling them, hoping that luck would be on my side and I would catch them. I trudge up to the steps and turn over the lone pot, pulling the spare key off and letting myself into my childhood home.

I press speed dial 2 on my cell phone as I plop down on the couch, my head resting back against the cushions.

"Hey B," Noah's voice is gruff and he sounds tired and a bit worn, "you made it ok?"

"I did," I find myself nodding even though I know he can't see me. There has been a weird heaviness over us for the past few days, and I'm tired of the drama. "I had to stop and get a grape slushie first; you know how much I _love_ grape slushies." A giggle escapes my lips and I can't help but smile when I hear his groan, "Purely for nostalgic purposes, of course."

"Of course," he replies and his voice sounds lighter, instantly happier. "It had to be grape!" He chuckles slightly and I find myself smiling stupidly into a pillow, feeling a bit relieved. We could still banter and joke so that had to be a good sign, didn't it?

"Dad and Daddy aren't home and I'm sitting here in our big ol' house all by my lonesome." The thing I loved about Noah was that he could see right through my bullshit and into the core issue, which also happens to be something that completely annoys me.

"It's fucking weird being back there, isn't it?" He questions and I can hear the softness in his tone. I know that he was worried about me taking this trip on my own. I also know that if he could have gotten off work that he would have been sitting right beside me instead of sitting in our apartment.

"It doesn't feel like home anymore," is my simple response. I hesitate for just a moment and then force myself to say the words I have been thinking the whole drive here. "You're my home now, Noah."

I can hear the gruff undertone of the low growl he emits and can just picture the look on his face. The thing with Noah is that he gets possessive, very possessive. When you play into that possessiveness, when you let him know that you are his, it _really _gets to him. "Thanks babe," he groans and I can hear the shuffling of what sounds like papers, "Now I'm going to have to take a cold shower before I meet Chang. Speaking of, I've got to go."

"That's fine. Dad and Daddy should hopefully be home soon, anyways. Have a good night, Noah. Love you." I can't help the sadness in my voice, or the wistful sigh that escapes my lips.

"Love you too." I wait for the click before setting my phone down on the coffee table. Turning on the television, I make myself comfortable as I wait. I've waited this long to tell Dad and Daddy the news, I suppose I can wait just a little longer.

* * *

**Quick apology on my part… I literally re-wrote this chapter 3 times before sending it to my beta and begging her to do something with it. Between my computer trouble and hers, it took a while to get it out. I think between the two of us, though, it turned out pretty damn good!**

**I'm kind of a review whore… you're reviews last chapter were epic win and made me smile. You guys are awesome!**

**If you haven't checked it out yet… Go to my profile and click the link for my live journal account. I've been fascinated by the Puck/Rachel drabble meme and have written stories for a few of the prompts. All drabbles can be found by clicking on the drabble tag!**

**Now it's your turn… (And I'm curious)… What "prompts" would you like to see for this story? What do you want to see happen?**

**Coming up: Back-story galore! **


	9. Chapter 9

"_**Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing." – Anais Nin**_

I feel, in so many ways, as if my life is on an endless track of repeats. Something about being home, being with Dad and Daddy, makes me think of the past and of the future. As much as I hate to admit it, there is a part of me that will always love Finn. I find myself inexplicably drawn to him in so many ways. He was my first true boyfriend (I am _so_ not counting Jessie). Not only did he give me Aden, who was truly my pride and joy, but we were happy, if only for a little while.

Then there is also a chunk of me, a pretty large one, which loves Noah more than words can express. He has this way of seeing past all my talk and bullshit, which I love. He can also be infuriating and childish and I swear sometimes he makes me want to pull my hair out. But it's that same childlike quality which makes him inventive and creative. When I'm with him, I can truly be myself with no mask or pretenses. It's comforting and relaxing; I feel like I'm home when I'm with him.

I'm starting to realize that no matter what I choose, no matter what happens, someone is going to get hurt. No matter what, I'm going to have regrets.

#

I feel this connection with Dorothy, in the Wizard of Oz; you know how something happens and swoops her up into this whole new life. I was so heartbroken, so shattered and lost after walking away from Noah that I let life just move and carry me with it, not really interested in the journey or the destination. Everything leading up to when Finn and I got back together is a blur of activity.

There is one thing I do know, though. After everything with Noah came crashing down, Finn was there for me. Period. He was there for the nights of tears, there when I just wanted a distraction, and he was there just to be there. There is something so inherently good about Finn, something innocent about him that calls to me. It's those parts of him that help put me back together; a task I'm not sure I could have accomplished on my own.

Our second first kiss happened in a park.

It was a Tuesday night. I remember how dark the sky was, the way I could barely see the stars through the clouds. A storm was brewing in the sky, one that was matching the storm that was brewing inside of me. I was so confused about my feelings for Noah, so confused about my relationship with Finn that I found myself racing towards the one place I knew I could find solace.

Whenever in my life I felt restless, whenever I could not sleep, when I was down in the dumps I would find myself in the park, swinging. I like the feel of the breeze as it blows past my face, the way my legs pump in tune to my heart, and the way I soar higher and higher in the air. I'm in my own little bubble, separated from whatever has led me there, and able to fully process my thoughts and feelings.

The first few drops of rain had started to fall, when I watched him walking up the path towards me. When Finn finally reached me, he sat on the swing next to me, his body engulfing it. His legs bent awkwardly as he rocked silently next to me.

"How did you know where I was?" I questioned turning my head to look at him through the darkness of the night. My voice sounded tiny, distant, in comparison to the gusts of wind signaling an oncoming storm.

"I know you, Rach." He whispered knowingly, his hand reaching over tentatively to grasp mine over the metal chains. "This is your way of escaping, your way of thinking. I figured that you would be here, trying to find solace."

He had looked so worn, so tired. There were small bags under his eyes and his shoulders and arms seemed to sag, as if he was tired of carrying the weight of them. There was fierceness in his eyes though, a steady determination that had seemed to be brewing for quite awhile.

"I need to tell you something, because I can't keep quiet about it any longer. I know you're hurting and I'm trying to give you the time and the space that you need. But I think that you also need to know," Finn paused for a moment, his eyes clenched tight before opening them and truly looking at me, through me. "I love you, Rach. "

And then he leaned over and kissed me.

His kiss wasn't intense and full of passion like Noah's; it wasn't dominating or demanding. It was simple and light, barely a brush of tongue. It was comforting. For the first time in awhile I felt wanted, needed, and when I opened my eyes to look at him it seemed like everything changed.

I could be sad and still be with him, could miss Noah but still have a life. I could find my way back to myself, find a way to bring back the part of me that I lost, and he could bring it to me. As the heavens opened up above us and the rain started to fall, I found myself leaning over and pressing my lips to his, thankful that I was finally feeling something.

#

The leaves were starting to change color and the air was becoming crisper when I got the news. It was a Thursday and life was steadily moving on. It had been almost a year since I had broken up with Noah, since I had seen Santana and Brittany. I was working pretty steadily at the time, trudging through the motion of getting through the day. My days and nights were filled with singing and dancing as I was beginning to train for a new show.

The call from my doctor was not unexpected. I had gone into the office a week before for my yearly checkup and had little to report or complain about. It's when the words, "You're pregnant," leave his lips, that I feel my reality shifting and changing. I had been on birth control since I turned 16 and Dad and Daddy had wanted me to be prepared. The thought of getting pregnant wasn't even on my radar; suddenly it was my reality.

I made my way to Finn's apartment, trying to wrap my mind around the words that still seemed to reverberate around within it. I remember letting myself into his place and making my way back to his bedroom; curling my body into his bed next to him.

"Hey," he whispered through the darkness, "you came over."

I was so emotional, so consumed with worry and doubts and regrets and love that I simply nodded my head feeling the tears slip down my face. He shifted beside me, his lips meeting the back of my head, wrapping his arm around me.

"I'm sorry I woke you," my voice was broken and shaky.

"I couldn't sleep anyway," Finn replied as his fingers played with the hem of my t-shirt. His voice sounded concerned as he continued to speak. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired." I replied, letting my head rest back against his chest and a small sigh escaping my lips.

"You know you can tell me anything, Rach. I'm not buying that you're just tired. So tell me what's bothering you so I can make it better." His voice sounds tired, worn, and I find myself wondering what was keeping him up.

I could feel the way his chin rubbed against the back of my head, feel the way his lips pressed into my hair and his nose breathed in my scent. I found myself rolling over to face him, a small sigh escaping my lips.

"You've been crying," he said. I can remember how gently he reached up and rubbed the red of my cheek. His fingers lingered on my face, the tenderness of the moment breaking my walls that I had spent the afternoon building up.

"I need to tell you something," I replied. I found myself linking my fingers with his and holding his hand over my stomach. As I played with his fingers a soft sob escaped my lips. "I'm pregnant."

I felt his lips brush over my forehead, kissing away the worry lines that had formed. He pulled me closer to him resting me in the crook of his arm as his hand formed to the small of my stomach.

"You're crying," he questioned, confused at my reaction to the news.

"I won't be able to continue with my job, Finn. Dancing is hard on a baby. Not only that but I'm worried about what Dad and Daddy are going to say. " My voice was so shaky with emotion, but speaking the words seemed to make them real and I remember how scared I actually was. I could feel the heat of his hand searing through the skin of my stomach and I was afraid I was going to be alone again. Silently, I hoped that he understood.

"Each day brings a new obstacle in our way and I just want to be happy with you." His hands scrubbed at his face as he spoke, his voice was full of emotion. I could feel the brush of his breathing against my ear and found myself reaching out for him through the darkness.

Then I felt the bed shift.

Moving closer, I felt Finn's forehead rest against my neck. His hand still lay on my belly, his fingers gently stroking the smooth skin as his lips brushed against my neck. My eyes felt heavy, the lids drooping from exhaustion.

"Rachel," he whispered softly.

"Hmm," I asked through a haze of sleepiness.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I mumbled as my eyelids closed. I could feel my breathing slowing, matching the steady beat of his heart.

"Rachel," Finn nudged me gently.

"Hmm," I found myself replying. I was almost asleep.

"Will you marry me?" His lips were pressed against my ear, the words barely a brush of air as they escaped his lips.

"Yes," I remember replying through the haze, "of course Daddy."

The last thing I remember about that night is the gentle feel of his lips against my neck and the steady sound of his heart beating in time with mine, gently lulling me to sleep.

#

Tina once told me, just after I had announced our engagement, how excruciating it would be for all of them. I never really understood what she meant, understood how my relationship could have an impact on their lives. I was so caught up in trying not to hurt anymore, in trying to fix me that I completely missed the way everything else changed. In leaving Noah, in starting a relationship with Finn, I inadvertently pitted friends against each other.

Suddenly Mike was too busy for his weekly guy night with Finn and Mercedes was too busy to take a phone call from an old friend. Kurt had thrown his hands up in the air, screaming that he refused to be in the middle of this "epic shit-storm." Brittany refused to take my calls, still upset about the way my relationship with Noah ended. Artie was indifferent, claiming that his distance from the rest of us nullified his opinion. Tina and Matt had been the most supportive, helping with wedding plans and all the last minute details.

I'm not really sure who told _**him**_, but as soon as Noah found out, Santana made me aware of the fact. She called me, her voice brusque and angry quickly letting me know exactly what she thought of me. I was an evil bitch who was ruining everyone's lives. Did I realize all the pain that I was causing everyone? And how could I be so callous and so cold hearted? Each time I opened my mouth to try and explain I was met with resistance and hatred.

The drunken texts started the night after Santana's call. I wasn't sure what I expected Noah's reaction to be, but the messages I received were crystal clear and filled with loathing. There was a tone of sadness to each message, a desperate and hopeful undertone that broke my heart more than the anger and hatred that he spewed. I read each word he sent, knowing that the hurt I was feeling and the pain he was feeling were entirely my own fault.

#

I clearly remember the day of my wedding. The way my dress laid against me, the feel of the silk as it brushed against my skin. I remember sitting in front of the mirror, my hands shaking as they combed through my hair, the butterflies swarming my stomach. When I closed my eyes all I could see was the look on Noah's face the day that I left him; the shattered broken image of the man that he once was.

I wondered if he had received his wedding invitation, wondered if he had thrown the invitation out. In so many ways I was against sending it to him, figuring that I had caused enough pain in his life. I had hesitated at the mailbox; the envelope grasped tightly in my fingers as tears has fallen down my face. My last thought, before it slipped through the slot was what it would look like to Finn if I didn't send it.

In so many ways, I was broken that day. I had no friends willing to stand up with me other than Tina, all of them claiming I was making a huge mistake. Kurt stood up for Finn, claiming his brotherly duty, but making sure that he loudly voiced his displeasure frequently.

So lost in my memories, I was taken by surprise when I looked in the mirror and found him standing there. The sight of him alone took my breath away, but there was something in his eyes that shattered me. Pity. Noah wore a black dress shirt and slacks with a purple tie. He had a pair of sunglasses shoved up, resting precariously upon his head.

"So you are really going through with this?" His voice sent shock waves through me and a small cry escaped my lips. I remember the way the tears pooled in both of our eyes as I turned in my chair to actually look at him. My whole body shook with tremors as he moved closer to me, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me into his embrace.

"I am going through with this." My voice was so shaky the words barely understandable. "I have to."

"Please, don't." He choked out, his head shaking back and forth. "Don't stand up there, in front of everyone, and say all the reasons he's perfect for you. I wouldn't be able to take it." His voice was strained, filled with defeat, and he bowed his head, eyes closed. My eyes strayed to the ceiling, blinking rapidly, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill down and trying to will myself to say the things that I had to say.

"He's not perfect for me," I whispered feeling relief at the words. I lifted his chin up, resting his face in my hands. He met my eyes as I continued to speak, "Finn is far from perfect, Noah. He will never be able to tell when I'm lying," my voice broke as I continued to speak, "will never be able to tell my show smile from my real one."

"Don't do this then," he pleaded. I heard the sound of the door clicking and looked up, surprised to see Santana standing by the doorway, her face downturned as she tried to give us some privacy while still guarding the door.

"Noah," I picked up his hand and brought it gently to my slightly protruding belly, watching his eyes grow wide with understanding and sadness.

"You're having his baby." He sounded so wounded, so dejected. I couldn't help the small tears that had slipped from my eyes.

"Yes." I murmured, my voice breaking on the word.

With that one simple word, I watched him crumble before me knowing what he couldn't say. I knew that he wouldn't take the chance away from Finn to be a father again, no matter how much it hurt him.

I can remember so many moments from that day. The way Finn had looked at me as I walked down the aisle; his face full of awe, dedication, and love. The subtle scent of lavender from my bouquet that wafted around me. The way Finn's arms had felt around me as he twirled me to the music during our first dance. And the way Noah crumpled into Santana's arms as they walked out of my room and out of my life.

* * *

**If you haven't checked it out yet… Go to my profile and click the link for my live journal account. I've been fascinated by the Puck/Rachel drabble meme and have written stories for a few of the prompts. I've been trying to write one drabble every few days, so a new one should be up! All drabbles can be found by clicking on the drabble tag!**

**I was kinda bummed about the response to the last chapter.. and Im still curious.. What would you like to see for this story? What do you want to see happen?  
Thanks to my beta LadyGambit!**

**Coming up: Rachel drops a "bombshell" on Noah**

**N**


	10. Chapter 10

"_**The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing: we know this in countless ways."- Blaise Pascal**_

Minutes turn into hours, hours into days, and days into weeks. Life continues to move on and it gets easier and easier to forget that this isn't the life I have lived before. Being with Noah, being back in this time, starts to become the norm. I forget the little things like the way Finn stretched when he awoke in the morning, or the way he smelled just after taking a shower. Each of these memories slowly drift away to be replaced by new ones, by my new life.

My days have gone from one kind of busy to another. I live and breathe the routine for my new show. Between singing, dancing, rehearsing, and costume fittings I find time to sleep, eat, and be with Noah.

It's on a Saturday that I find myself sitting at the park, the wood of the bench digging into my thighs. I watch the children running, swinging, sliding and I can't help but relish in the joy they take from the simplicity of it all. There is something magical about children and the way they approach the world; it's something so innocent and beautiful. It's there, on the park bench, that I realize how much my view on life has changed, how much I've changed.

It's hard to deny that I don't miss certain aspects of my old life. Sure, there were times that it was stifling and overwhelming. But there were also moments of true joy and love; moments that truly took my breath away. The first time Aden called me "mama" I literally cried with happiness. The first time, his words short and smushed, he told me he loved me I felt as if my heart would burst. Each of his touches, kisses, and hugs holds a special place deep within me; a place so deep that no matter the time or distance it will always remain the piece of me that I gave to him.

I love the busyness of the city, love my job and the people I am working with, and I love Noah. I also love and miss being a mother so much that sometimes it aches. I've gotten used to the hole in my chest, used to the subtle pain that ripples through me when I see a mother with her child. I'm starting to wonder if it's one or the other, if I can't have both of my loves. And I'm afraid of what I will choose if I have to, because no matter what I am going to lose a piece of myself.

#

It's later that night while we are relaxing on the couch, eating pizza, and watching some TV show, that I finally get up the nerve to talk to him about what has been bothering me. I've been rather quiet lately, something I'm positive that he has noticed, but has chose to let slip.

I hesitate for just a moment, before setting my pizza down, and turning to look at him. I'm not sure if it's the serious look on my face or the way my hands are slightly shaking, but he turns towards me giving me his full attention. My eyes scan over the light scruff on his face, the burrow in his forehead, and the way his hands nervously tug at the base of his undershirt as if he knows how serious this is going to be.

"I've been thinking," my voice comes out hesitant, soft, and I find myself nervously playing with the ends of my hair. "We should try and have a child." The words come out of my mouth like a squeak, my face is beat red, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. "Ever since Quinn's funeral, I haven't been able to stop my mind from going there, of thinking about it. Even though I knew that the test would be negative I was so disappointed that it was."

The room suddenly seems so quiet, too quiet. I look at him, noticing that his eyes are as big as saucers and his mouth is open in shock. If I wasn't so nervous I think the sight would have been amusing, instead I find tears falling from my eyes as I continue to ramble. "I know that this seems sudden, but I've been thinking about it for awhile. And it takes like three months for the birth control to stop being effective after you stop taking it, so we would have some time."

I wait for just a moment, expecting some kind of response. Instead I am met with dead silence. It's a bit unnerving and I find myself shifting slightly away from him as I throw out a few last parting words before forcing myself to stop. "I know that we have some money saved up, so we wouldn't have to worry about that. Plus think of all the sex we would be having, you know trying and all. Couldn't you just picture a child with your eyes and my hair?"

Then, I bolt.

##

I spend most of Sunday with Britt and San. It's a way for me to avoid the nervous tension I'm feeling and to forget, at least for a little while, how poorly the previous days conversation went. After a few hours of shopping, I'm surprisingly tired, so we decide to stop at a coffee shop for a pick me up.

I'm sipping my cappuccino and nibbling on a blueberry muffin, listening to San argue the benefits of yoga, when I'm startled by something I see out of the corner of my eye. Finn is sitting in a small booth, one of his hands wrapped around the cup of his coffee, Tina is sitting across from him and they are deep in conversation. He has that smile on his face, the one that he would always pull out when he was in trouble and trying desperately to get away with it.

The thing is I've known Finn and Tina for so long that I can pretty much read them. There is something about the way they are leaning in towards each other, the way they seem so comfortable together, that makes me pause. I find myself wondering where Mike is and what he would say if he saw what I was currently seeing because, if I'm really truly honest, it makes me nervous. I quickly do the math in my head and realize that in a little over a month Mike is supposed to be proposing.

I'm trying not to be obvious in my staring but San must realize that my mind is somewhere else because she is suddenly snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. "Earth to Rachel," her voice is full of sarcasm and a bit of amusement. When I finally focus my eyes on her, her eyebrows are raised in question. I nod my head in the general direction and she peeks over her shoulder, her jaw opening in shock as she turns back to Britt and me.

"I thought she was with Mike," she questions me, her tone snippy. While San and Mike are not as close as they used to be, she is still fiercely protective of him (as she is with all of her guy friends). My eyes linger on the two sitting at the table as I shrug my shoulders in response. To be honest I haven't really been the best friend to Tina these last few weeks. I've been so caught up in trying to make things right this second time that I am losing one of my only friends in the future.

I watch as she makes her way to the bathroom and set down my cup, discreetly following her. I'm leaning against the sink when she is through, trying not to let my displeasure show on my face. I know that I may be oversensitive and reading into things, but having Santana notice something is really shaking me.

"Hey Tina," my voice is sickly sweet and a bit higher pitched than normal. She looks a bit surprised at my appearance, but also a bit unnerved. The fact is, though, I'm just as unnerved as she is. In the future I know, Tina and Mike are together and happy; they are quite literally the perfect couple with the perfect child. I try to force the image of Kiah from my brain fearing the onslaught of memories about Aden that are sure to follow.

"Tina, you are playing with fire." My voice is hesitant as I try not to let the nervousness show through. There is no use in pretending that neither of us knows what is going on here, no use in sugarcoating the situation.

"It's just Finn," Tina replies, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. I so badly want to ask if everything is alright, if something happened. The Tina I know, the Tina I knew, is not the same as the girl standing in front of me. "Come on, Rach. He was the QB in high school, the lead male of glee club. Who would have ever thought he would give me the time of day let alone actually want to hang out with me?"

"He is also Mike's best friend." My voice comes out louder than I want it to and I can feel the anger building inside of me. "Did you not learn anything sophomore year with the whole baby-gate situation. Dating your best friends girl or in this case guy will _never_ end well."

She lets out a scoff, her eyes rolling. "We aren't dating, we are just hanging out. And comparing Noah and Finn is like comparing a fish and a duck. They may both be swimming in the pool but they are two completely different species." I can hear the sarcasm and disdain in her voice and I'm so close to losing my last hold on my temper that instead of speaking I turn and walk out. I hear the bathroom door slam behind me and a few patrons turn their heads to look, including Finn.

I don't like the feeling brewing in my gut; don't like the fact that this moment will most likely bug me long after we leave the coffee shop. I refuse to acknowledge Finn, but I can feel his eyes on me as I make my way quickly over to San and Britt. I know that my face is likely beet red in anger and I can feel the way my hands are shaking as I pick up my coffee cup and chuck it into the small bin.

"I'm leaving. Let's go." The words come out like a command and I can tell that Britt is more than a little confused. Santana, on the other hand, looks just as pissed as I feel. As we grab our bags and get rid of our trash I avoid raising my eyes to meet the set I feel staring at me.

##

I'm in a sour mood by the time I get home. I basically chuck my bags onto the floor surrounding the door, kicking my shoes off as I go. I can hear a few voices coming from the living room and really don't want to deal with company. I bypass the living room and make my way down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps reverberating.

I'm not really aware at the stream of words that I am muttering under my breath until I am tugging off my jeans and contemplating throwing something. A few seconds later Noah enters our bedroom and closes the door gently behind him.

"Everything ok, babe?" He seems hesitant and unsure, his voice is quiet and I can't help but notice the concern in his eyes.

"I'll be fine," I snap as I rip my hair tie out of my hair and run my hands through the strands, tugging on the ends. Noah knows me well enough to know when to push and when to wait. He stands patiently as I take a few deep breaths. "Tina and I got into a bit of a fight at the mall today."

"I thought you went shopping with Britt and San?" he questions, his voice filled with confusion. There is still so much space between us in so many ways that I should be uncomfortable. Instead, I find myself moving closer to him, letting my arms wrap around his waist and my body sag into his chest.

"We did. We just happened to run into Tina at the coffee shop while we were having a snack." I'm not really sure why, but I leave off the part about Finn being there with her. I'm not sure Noah would understand or care why it bothered me so much, especially considering the fact that it was _Finn._

There is something about being in Noah's arms, feeling the heat of his body that is so relaxing. I find myself sighing gently as my face burrows into his neck. "Who is here?" I question, my voice muffled against his skin. He lets out a gentle groan, his hands running through the ends of my hair as his lips kiss the back of my head.

"You ready for this?" he questions and I can hear a tinge of anxiety in his tone. I'm not sure if he is expecting a response or pausing for dramatic effect, so I nod my head up and down against his skin knowing that he can feel it. "My mom is here."

I think about the brash woman sitting in the other room and let out a groan of my own. "How long is she staying for?" I question as I burrow my head deeper as if I am trying to hide. The thing is, I love Noah's mother, I really do; from a distance, that is. The woman is opinionated, nosy, and constantly starting some sort of fight with Noah.

"No clue," his voice is a growl, full of frustration. I'm so concerned about the visit that I have little time to worry myself with our conversation the day prior. I know that eventually something will have to be said about his lack of response or enthusiasm. I've seen Noah with his sister, saw him briefly with Beth, and as hesitant as he is, I know that he would make a great father.

I pull away slightly to look up into his eyes, seeing the worry that is lining his face. "I haven't forgotten about yesterday, Rach. We will be talking about it." He speaks softly; as if afraid his words will carry out to his mother. I think I'm just as nervous and hesitant to have that conversation as he is, so I just nod my head and place a light peck on his lips.

He gives me a moment to compose myself and to put my hair back up into a ponytail before taking my hand in his. These next few days are going to be a doozy, a whirlwind of drama and emotions. Alone, it will be almost impossible to survive, but together I'm sure we can make it.

* * *

**Wow, the response to the last chapter was amazing! Thanks to those of you who took the time to review and let me know what you were thinking! I'm going out of town for the weekend for my birthday so the next chapter most likely won't be up until late Monday or Tuesday. I'm planning on doing the review replies Sunday night!**

**Hope you all have an amazing weekend :)**

**Coming Up: Mrs. Puckerman and the baby convo**

**N**


	11. Chapter 11

"_**The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves, they find their own order… the continuous thread of revelation." – Eudora Welty**_

Eva Puckerman is a force to be reckoned with. Within twenty minutes of my arrival she has insulted Noah twice, mentioned his music three times, and questioned me about future grandchildren almost as often as she took a breath. Normally, the questioning would roll off my shoulders and be ignored. Lately, though, it's a bit of a sensitive subject and each time it gets mentioned I find my teeth grinding a bit more.

Noah is sitting beside me; his body hunkered down in defense or defiance. His hand rests upon my knee, a gesture that is both unnerving and calming at the same time. With each word that escapes her mouth I can feel my body coiling and springing, my fight or flight kicking in. My stomach is twisting in my gut and I'm contemplating which door is the closest exit when I hear the growl escape Noah's lips.

"That is enough mother," his face is set in a scowl, his shoulders hunched in defense. "Just fucking stop, now! Can't you see you're upsetting her?" He points his finger at me, his hand ghostly white from clenching it into a fist.

Eva, either used to her son's language or choosing to ignore it, just smiles at me sweetly as if saying 'can you believe the boy?' When she opens her mouth I find myself dreading the words that escape. "So Noah, dear, when are you going to make Rachel an honest woman and stop living in sin?"

I refuse to be rude, refuse to stoop to the low level which she seems to be residing in. I'm at a loss for words, something unusual for me. Instead of speaking, I find myself rising from the couch. I grab a sweater out of the closet and simply walk out the front door. I listen to the latch clicking, the sound of the washing machines chugging away, and as I walk down the hallway I can hear the yells emanating from our apartment.

#

It's late enough in the day, that the park I find myself swinging in is fairly empty. I'm rocking back and forth, my eyes closed, when I hear the sound of a throat clearing. I'm expecting Noah, so when I open my eyes and see Finn I'm more than a little surprised. He's standing just on the edge of the sandbox, his hands are shoved deep into his pockets and he has this amused look on his face.

"So I hear Mrs. Puckerman's on the warpath." A small chuckle escapes his lips as he moves closer. Instead of sitting next to me, he makes his way behind me. His hands find the small of my back and I feel the gentle breeze of air brush past me as I surge forward.

"That woman is a piece of work," there is no amusement in my voice, the seriousness of the situation making me sound gruff. I clench the metals chains tighter as I soar higher. The wind whips at my hair and carries my voice as I continue to speak. "You wouldn't believe the rude things she was saying. Do you know that she actually asked when we were going to stop living in sin?" There is a tinge of incredulity in my voice and I find myself cranking my head to look at Finn.

"That sounds like her," he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "She has always been a pretty strong willed woman, very opinionated." He looks so tired, worn, and I want to ask him what is wrong. I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help the curiosity or concern.

"You think I'm making a mistake with Tina?" He seems hesitant to broach the subject, his demeanor suddenly much shyer than the Finn I am used to. I contemplate my words before speaking, refusing to let my personal feelings cloud my words.

"She is still with Mike, Finn. He's like your best friend. I just don't understand how you can justify it, especially considering everything that happened sophomore year." I let the words hang in the air around us, not quite sure how he will take them.

"Nothing has happened," he supplements quickly as if that makes everything ok. "We've just hung out a few times," he seems nervous and I watch as he tugs his hands through his hair.

"It didn't look like nothing at the coffee shop and it wasn't just me that thought that, Finn." I turn around in the swing so that I am facing him. "Just think about how you felt when you found out about Noah and Quinn. You could be responsible for Mike having to experience that betrayal, hurt."

He's quiet for awhile, his face contemplative. A sigh escapes his lips; he seems to be mulling my words over. "I don't want to cause anyone pain. I just wanted a friend and Tina has been there, been available when I needed to talk. I've been feeling so lonely and down since Quinn died. It's kind of like my view on life has changed and it scares me."

He moves to sit on the swing next to me. His frame engulfs the tiny plastic swing and he just kind of hovers above the sand. "It's so scary how everything can change in an instant. One minute she was here and the next she was gone. Life is short and I'm starting to wonder what I'm waiting on." He turns to look away from me, his eyes closed. "I want so badly to find the one, to get married and have kids. It's like there is this part of me that is missing and no matter how much I search I can't find it."

"Everyone wants that Finn," I find myself whispering. "No one truly wants to be alone." The words seem to hang in the air between us and it suddenly seems tenser, thicker.

"I've only come close once," his voice is quiet, hesitant, "and that was when I was dating you." He turns to look at me, his face unreadable. I can hear the sound of my breathing, the subtle swoosh of air entering and escaping my lips.

"Finn," I murmur.

The sound of 'Loser' fills the air around us, he pauses for a moment his eyes searching mine. It isn't until I turn and look away from him that he reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out.

"I found her, Puck." his voice is worn and a bit bitter. "She's at that park where we all went sledding last year, the one by Santana and Britt's old place." He clicks his phone closed, his head and shoulders hunching as he crams it back into his pocket.

The air around us is silent, overbearing, and I suddenly find myself missing the solitude of sitting alone.

#

I'm just about to start a rant about _anything_ to kill the overwhelming silence between Finn and me when Noah shows up. I watch his truck whip around the corner and screech to a stop. He is out of his car and in front of me so quickly that I barely have time to process that he's moved.

"You're here," my voice sounds strange almost numb. It matches with how I am feeling almost perfectly. Finn is gently rocking back and forth on the swing next to me, not really saying anything. There is an awkward silence and I shuffle my feet through the sand as I watch Noah pace. His nostrils are flaring in anger and I find myself questioning whether he is angry with me, Finn, or his mother for creating the situation.

Noah stops pacing in front of Finn, his eyes narrowing and a frown lining his face. "How'd you know where she would be?" he questions. There is a bit of accusation and hurt lining his voice and I find myself feeling guilty as he looks between the two of us. Noah has no way of knowing what we were talking about before he called, no way of hearing Finn's confession and I know that the guilt is unfounded. I have no control over what Finn says to me, no control over the things he feels.

"Rachel always goes to the park to think when she is upset," Finn replies smugly; almost as if he is satisfied that he knows some piece of me that Noah doesn't (which, at least on this point, he's wrong).

"I'm aware of that," Noah growls his eyebrows rising as if challenging the possessiveness of Finn's claim. "I just forgot that this park was here. I was checking areas closer to our apartment." His voice is petulant, his demeanor sullen.

It's not that I don't want people to know where I am when I'm upset or thinking, but more that I enjoy the solitude of being alone and if people know where you are then you're easy to find. There have been exactly four people that I have shared this fact with, two of which are the men with me now.

"Where is your mother?" I feel the way the words fall off of my tongue and hear how angry and bitter they sound and I can't seem to care. My body is tense and nervous and my mind is still struggling to process everything that Finn said.

"I sent her to a fucking hotel; paid for the damn thing, too, just to shut her the fuck up. Are you alright?" The words tumble from his lips, and he moves unusually slowly towards me, his arms pulling me from the swing and wrapping around me. I'm engulfed by him; by the feel of his chest and the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his arms. It's relaxing and I find myself sinking into him.

I nod my head against his chest; letting the feeling of his hands trailing through my hair soothe me. "Thank you," I murmur feeling my body relax even more. "I may not have the gumption to say anything to her, but she was dreadful tonight."

I want to reprimand him for being so rude, for forcing his mother out of our place. But I can't seem to compel myself to. If I'm truly being honest, it's probably for the better. I don't know if I could take any more of Eva for the night and I'm sure that at some point I would have lost my temper. It's one thing to walk out of our apartment, but to actually go off on the woman would be completely inappropriate.

I turn to look at Finn and can't help but notice the forlorn expression on his face. He looks so hurt, so dejected, and I can tell by the sag of his shoulders that this has been a hard night on him. He's trying his hardest not to look at us, the awkwardness overpowering his need to be nice.

"Gotta go," he grumbles as he kicks at the sand with his toe. I watch him walk away through the darkness, trying my hardest to ignore the guilt.

#

The drive back to our apartment is quiet; the sound of the tires running over the road seeming to lull me into a type of trance. I can tell by the look on Noah's face that the night is far from over. There is something brewing behind his eyes adding an extra sparkle of mischief to them. When he reaches over and pulls my hand up to his mouth, his lips gently kissing the fingertips, I find my eyes closing and a sigh escaping my lips. It isn't until he lightly shakes me that I realize I've fallen asleep.

Taking my hand he pulls me to the elevator, his arms holding and supporting me as we ride up the few flights. I'm a bit confused at how quiet he is being, a bit surprised by the lack of commentary about me running out or about the things his mother was saying.

"What's the matter?" I question as he pulls me into the apartment and locks the door behind me. He's standing so close to me that I feel pinned against the door. Instead of speaking he just gives me his half smirk, his hands blocking me from moving as he rests them against the door.

"That shit, you standing up for yourself by walking out, is hot." And suddenly he kisses me, his mouth pressing insistently against mine. His tongue feels warm, wet, dominating against mine and I can't help but shudder as he pushes against me, his grunt echoing into my mouth.

Everything that has been going on between us, all the tension and questions and emotions have built to a crescendo, overwhelming my body and mind. His mouth moves expertly, nipping and sucking at first my lips and then my chin, before moving down to my neck.

"We need to talk," he whispers against the soft skin of my neck, "about all this sex we're supposed to be having." I can feel the curl of his mouth as he smiles against my skin; his hands reach around my waist pulling my hips against his and rocking us gently.

My breath escapes in pants, my mind is a jumble of images, and all I can seem to focus on is the feel of his body against mine. His tongue snakes out to run against the edge of my jaw and ear and I can hear the whimper escape my lips.

"Tell me," he whispers his breaths sending sporadic shivers through my body. "I want to hear you say it."

I'm struggling to form words, to say what he needs to hear. A few whimpers and an "oh god," escapes my lips as my head falls back against the wood. I'm clenching my eyes tight, trying to gain some semblance of control over myself as I form the words.

If we take this step, it we actually do this, I know that it will change my entire future. Children hadn't even been a blip in the radar of Noah and my relationship, something I hadn't really even considered. Suddenly, since getting my second chance, it seems as if it's the only thing I can think of. I picture my life with Finn and Aden and let the words fall from my lips.

"I want to have a fucking kid with you, Noah." Each word comes out a tremor, my voice shakier than I have ever heard it before.

I think it's the fact that I say fuck that sends him over the edge.

"Fuck yes," he groans before moaning my name. His hands are everywhere pulling and tugging, possessing me. I feel him slip his fingers under the edge of my underwear, tugging them down my legs. His body presses against mine, the wood of the door digging into the skin of my back, he pulls away to smirk his eyes filled with mirth. "Leave the rest on," he mutters.

I can't deny the way his name fell off of my lips in a pant or the way I bucked into his hand as he moved it beneath my skirt. I felt alert, alive, my body on fire from the inside. Each brush of his fingers, each touch of his hand made me crave him so deeply it shook me to my core. I was consumed by the feeling of him, of the intensity of the moment.

"Oh, fuck." I whispered my eyes snapping open to look at him as my thighs tensed and my mouth opened in a silent scream. My hands dug at his shoulders and the small hairs at the back of his neck. I felt him curve his fingers, hitting me just where he knew I liked it, and then suddenly I was falling headfirst into darkness. It was blinding and buzzing, stars burst above me and a scream escaped my lips.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Noah hissed, my body hitching onto him as I rested my head against his shoulder. I felt his hands roam the skin underneath my sweater; his arms bring my knees up to wrap around him. He shifted beneath me, his pants and boxers dropping to the floor. There was urgency to the movements, his hips shifting as he tugged at the material.

His name falls from my lips as he enters me.

He lifts me by the hips, his hands guiding my movements as I struggle to find some semblance of control.

"Try number one," he grunts, shoving as deeply as he can inside of me. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes glazed and I wonder what I look like to him. Either way, I know that neither of us is going to last long. I can feel every piece of him, the nerve endings of my body on fire. My muscles are fluttering and spasming and all I can do is cling to him, giving him complete control.

"YES," I whimper as he pulls out and pushes back in. I feel his fingers tighten on my legs, feel the knob digging into my back, and let my fingers sink into his shoulders. There is nothing fast about it and yet it seems forbidden and animalistic as he takes me against the door. Each movement is filled with passion and purpose.

"You feel amazing," he groans against my mouth his eyes clenching tight for a moment before opening to look at me once again, "So fucking good."

It only takes a few more pushes for both of us to fall off the edge, crying out each other's names into the darkness of our apartment. Suddenly, it seems there is a shift in our relationship. I feel a thrill shoot through me at the thought of what just happened, of what we have agreed.

"Are you sure?" I find myself questioning him as he tries to steady his breathing.

"Never been more," he replies, his lips lingering on mine sweetly. "So fucking good," his face is smug, proud and I can't help but laugh as he sets my feet back on the ground and winks at me. I hold my hand against the door, using it to support my weight; he just has to reach over and smack my ass.

"Nice," I mutter, shaking my head as I straighten my skirt and look at the floor surrounding us for my underwear.

"I thought so," he chuckles. His eyebrows rise in amusement and I can't help but shake my head and smile softly. That's my Noah.

* * *

**Wow, the response to the last chapter was amazing! Thanks to those of you who took the time to review and let me know what you were thinking or just wanted to send birthday wishes my way! You guys are amazing!**

**Coming Up: More Mrs. Puckerman**

**N**


	12. Chapter 12

"_**You know about a person who deeply interests you more than you can be told. A look, a gesture, an act, which to everybody else is insignificant, tells you more about that one than words can." -**__**Henry David Thoreau **_

A picture is worth a thousand words to each individual person that sees that picture, but what about those frozen snapshots we carry with us in our mind? Are they worth more than a thousand words? I have this picture in my mind of Aden. He is sitting on the floor between Finn and me with a huge smile on his face. He has on his monster feet slippers and a blanket is tied around his neck acting as a surrogate cape. Everyone looks so happy, so content, that it's hard to see what's beyond the picture. It doesn't show all the hugs and kisses, the smiles and the laughter. To anyone else it would just be a simple picture but to me there is a leftover essence of a memory, one I can almost reach out and touch. Once I start to think about that moment in time, imagine that picture, I get lost in the memories.

I remember how long car rides were, the time length excruciating for Aden. He sat fidgeting and wiggling, small giggles escaping through his lips. I had turned around in my seat to look at him, my tongue sticking out and my nose scrunching as his laughter pierced through the air (and penetrated my heart). I remember the way I threw my head back, laughing with him. I'm not sure now what was so funny, only that neither of us could contain our joy. There is something about a child's laughter that truly cures all, that makes everything seem better, that leaves the world behind.

I remember the first time Aden "helped" Finn play his Playstation 3. I listened to his laughter and growls as his fingers tapped at the controls maneuvering the character about the screen. It was about this time he learned the art of trash talking, something I thought completely inappropriate for a two and a half year old to know how to do. But when he put down his remote, smile beaming on his face and told Mike "I winned you. I awesome." I couldn't help but laugh.

For his third birthday, Burt and Carol thought it would be brilliant to buy him a mini drum set (just like dads). It was around this time that Finn accepted his new promotion at work and started to travel. Whenever Finn would leave, Aden would sit in front of the set a pout on his face, his sticks banging against the symbols with no rhythm. There was something about the intensity of his gaze, the way his tongue snuck between his teeth as he concentrated, that stopped me from taking them away from him.

I miss him and as much as I try to push it away, to ignore it, it's there in the back of my brain taunting me.

#

When I wake up in the morning, Noah is sitting in the living room his guitar perched on the end of his knee. He's wearing his glasses again and a pencil is clenched between his fingers. I watch as he chews on the eraser before jotting a few notes down. He plays them into the air, runs his hand against his face, then plays them again nodding. There is something about seeing him like this, watching him compose, and I can't help but just stand in the doorway silently.

"If you're going to stand there and ogle me than the least you can do is throw on some coffee," he chuckles as he looks up from his notes. His eyes look tired and he has small bags under them; but they also contain a sparkle that I haven't seen in quite awhile. His sweat pants and t-shirt look like they were thrown on haphazardly and I can't help but smile.

"Couldn't sleep?" I question, moving into the room. He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly, a small grunt escaping his lips. I make my way to the table, my eyes scanning over the music in front of him. I find myself humming the music softly. "Noah, this is beautiful." I can hear the way the music would play out, feel it filling my head, and I can't help but beam at him.

"It's just a rough draft," he grumbles, his hand reaching out and flipping the book closed. He pulls his guitar off of his lap and lays it on the couch next to him. He has a small smile on his face, he almost looks content. His hands reach out and grab me, pulling me into his lap. I can feel the brush of his fingers against my stomach as his lips brush against my neck. "G' morning."

"Morning," I whisper as I close my eyes and lean my head back against his shoulder. My back aches a bit with the movement and I can't help but smile as I think about the night before. "What time do you have to pick your mother up from the hotel?"

He lets out a gentle groan, his head crashing back into the couch causing a resounding clunk. "Way to ruin the mood." I can't help but giggle at the dramatics of the comment and the motion. As much as he would refuse to admit it, I think some of my characteristics have rubbed off on him a bit. "I should probably head over there soon, before she starts calling and bitching me out. I'll probably bring her to your show tonight; think you can get me two tickets?"

"Should be no problem," I promise, letting myself sink into him. We set for a moment, wrapped up in each other before beginning our day. Neither of us mention the night before, our emotional conversation, or the decisions that followed. But as I walk around the rest of the day, the memory of it, the thought of what we are trying to create, helps carry me.

#

There are two bouquets of flowers sitting at my vanity when I arrive at the theater. The first bouquet of red and orange roses is from Noah. There is a small note attached and I can't help but trace my fingers over the words. _Love you, Babe. You'll do great. _There is something so touching, so thoughtful about it all that I can't help but smile as I lean over and smell the fragrant flowers.

The second bouquet contains sprigs of lavender and pink daisies. I pull the card out of its envelope, my eyes scanning the card. I read the lyrics twice before, hands shaking, I set the card down. 'The keeper of the Stars' by Tracy Byrd is a love song. I'm aware of what each word means, aware of the message Finn is sending.

I'm also a bit startled.

I can feel my whole body shaking as I sink into my chair. I still remember the way Finn's hands had curled around my waist as we danced to this song; remember the feel of his body pressing into mine. It had seemed like such a cliché song that I found myself chuckling as it blasted from his car radio during our junior year. Finn had pulled me close to him, looked straight into my eyes, and told me that the song made him think of me, because I was his star.

I had lost my virginity to him in the back of his car that night. I can still remember the way my name fell from his lips, the way he whispered to me through the darkness; the moon our only source of light. It was far from perfect, neither of us really knew what we were doing; our movements more fumbled than purposeful. For the rest of the year, I couldn't look at his car without a blush lighting up my face.

I look at the words one more time, my hands shaking.

_Soft moonlight on your face oh how you shine  
It takes my breath away  
Just to look into your eyes  
I know I don't deserve a treasure like you_

_-Finn_

I drop the note into the trashcan, vowing to forget ever reading it.

#

There is something about being on stage, about standing under those lights, that makes everything else in the world go away. I can transport myself to another time, become a different person, and for a while put everything else on the back burner. When the show is over, I'm exhausted and my body aches. I literally want to curl up and just fall asleep. It isn't until I'm standing backstage scrubbing the makeup from my face that I realize my night is far from over.

Noah and Eva are waiting for me when I exit the dressing room. Eva mentions something about going out for a late dinner, but I can't seem to take my eyes off of Noah long enough to answer her. The two of us follow her out of the theater and make our way down the street to an all night diner. Noah is surprisingly quiet and if I didn't know him so well, I might be worried.

I can tell immediately that my being on stage got to him (it may have had something to do with my tiny wardrobe and provocative dancing). His face is tense and a bit redder than usual, his breathing deep and uncontrolled. I turn to look at him, raising my eyebrows in amusement, and can't help but chuckle at the low growl that emits from his lips.

"Thank you for the flowers," I whisper as he pulls my hand into his, his thumb brushing against my wrist. I can feel Eva's eyes watching us as he smiles and nods his head. I find myself sliding into the booth, Noah sliding next to me. His arm rests against the back of the booth, his fingers just barely brushing my shoulder. Eva sits across from us and I find myself smiling politely, my eyes scanning the menu quickly. I may not like the woman, but that doesn't mean that I can't be polite.

"So what did you think of the show?" I question, setting the menu down as I brush my hair back from my face. I'm always good for a bit of idle chit chat, especially when the silence is awkward.

"Amazing," Noah mutters, his eyes wide and his mouth smirking. "I think I could watch you every night." I can't help but laugh at the mischievousness in his voice as he moves his hand, resting it against my thigh.

"Your singing was beautiful. I can't say that I really approve of the story line, though." Eva's voice trails off as she looks down at her menu for a moment, a sigh escaping her lips. Her voice tremors as she continues to speak, as if forcing the words out. "But I guess you have to start somewhere right?"

I bite my tongue, forcing a smile at our waitress who takes our drink and food orders before leaving us setting in silence. I'm not really surprised by her response; the play is very controversial and new. I take comfort in the fact that she enjoyed my singing, though. I'm sure that when my fathers come they will have similar concerns, which won't be unfounded. I love the character I'm playing, though, no matter what anyone thinks of her. The drama of her life, the things that she faces, I can just relate to them in a way that is hard to describe. I figure I'm just going to have to get used to the criticism.

"So what did you two do today?" I change the subject before taking a sip of my water. I listen as they talk about the different sights they took in around the city and rest my head against Noah's shoulder. I refuse to let her ruin my night; refuse to let her get to me or bring me down.

After all, Eva Puckerman has never liked me; ever.

From the first moment I met her it was like she was on guard with me. This fact is something Noah has always enjoyed posturing over. The fact that she dislikes me, that she takes issue with our relationship, just gives Noah more reasons to claim her insanity. I am what he considers her "ideal girlfriend" for him; a nice Jewish girl.

I can't help but try to hide my smile when the plate of bacon arrives on the table, my teeth biting into my lip to keep the laughter from bubbling out. I watch as Noah shoves each piece into his mouth in a big show even going as far as licking the grease off his fingers. I may not be able to read Eva well, but I do speak Noah fluently.

This is a big "fuck you."

* * *

**Sorry for the delayed posting and responding to reviews, I came down with something last Tuesday and have basically spent the last week awake and miserable or sleeping... not as fun as it sounds, trust me. Which is also why this chapter is a bit shorter and unbetaed.. I wanted to get it up quickly. Thanks to all of you who took the time to review and let me know your thoughts/feelings/ect. **

**Bit of a spoiler regarding last nights episode:**

**(aka Puck and the v-word)...**

**Totally don't buy it. What doctor would perform that procedure on a 17 year old boy? I mean come on, seriously? Anyways, we're just going to pretend that it never happened... MMMk?**

**:D**

**N**


	13. Chapter 13

"_**Love is a choice you make from moment to moment." – Barbara De Angelis**_

Eva finally leaves a few days later and life resumes a somewhat normal schedule. I spend most of my time at the theater; Noah at work and with his friends. It's almost a week before I realize how little I have seen of him. I call in my understudy and take the night off, claiming personal reasons. I'm in the kitchen cooking dinner when Noah finally trudges into the apartment.

He takes in the small apron I have tied around my waist and the pots and pans on the stove, his eyebrows rising in question. "I thought you had to work tonight?" he questions. He moves to stand behind me, giving me a small peck on my neck as he leans over to look at the food.

"I took a personal day." I reply, grabbing a spoon to stir the sauce before placing the lid back on it. I'm pulling my hair up into a bun, when I see the frown on his face. Brushing my bangs from my forehead and blowing air up onto my face, I lean back against the counter. "What's wrong?"

He moves away from me slightly, letting his body rest against the counter, his eyes scanning over the food on the stove. "The thing is," his voice is hesitant and he sounds like he's building up to something that is going to upset me. I find myself setting down the spoon and turning my back to the stove, watching him wring his hands together. "I thought you were working tonight. And I sort of have plans to go out with the guys. I'm supposed to meet them in like fifteen minute for drinks and wings."

I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside of me, but I refuse to be the nagging girlfriend and throw a fit. He can hang out with 'the guys' anytime, but the one time I take a night off of work he's too busy. I'm swallowing back the hurtful things that want to spew from my mouth, instead forcing a smile. "That's fine, have fun." I watch his eyes rake over my features nervously, before turning my back to him. I can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but refuse to let them putting all my focus on making sure that my noodles don't stick to the bottom of the pan.

I'm so focused that when I hear the door click I almost pull the pan off of the stove. I've lost my appetite, so I flick the burners off and place the food in a few Tupperware containers. I go over my plans for our evening disappointedly; the dinner, the music, the sex I was hoping we would be having. Instead I'm forced with an evening alone in our apartment when I _should_ have been on stage. A normal person would have been content with a quiet evening at home; a normal person wouldn't have minded an evening off of work. I guess I'm not normal.

I'm sitting in my reading chair, staring at the pages of the book unseeingly. It's too fucking quiet. The conversation just keeps playing over and over in my mind. And the thing is, the longer I stew the madder I get. I'm upset and angry and feeling neglected when I find myself reaching for my phone, my fingers hovering above the numbers as I look at the highlighted name. I stare at the screen, letting my heartbeat fill my ears.

I _can't_ do it.

I scroll down and select San, letting my phone rest against my shoulder. I listen to the ringing, counting each annoying bring. After four rings it kicks into voicemail and I find myself cursing under my breath. I hang up without leaving a message and try Britt, fingers crossed that she picks up. I listen to the steady beep as it connects to her line and hold my breath. My hands are shaking and I find myself getting up from my chair and pacing the living room silently praying for an answer. I don't get one.

All I Know is that the walls are closing in on me and I am feeling more claustrophobic than I have ever felt before. I've worked myself up to the point now that if I don't talk to someone, if I don't get these things that are boiling inside of me out, then I will likely explode. On any other occasion I would have called Tina to talk, but with the way things ended between us I'm just not comfortable enough to.

And really that leaves only one person.

But I promised myself that I wouldn't go down this road, promised myself that I wouldn't make the same mistakes. So I take the battery out of my phone and stick it in one of the drawers, then I take my phone into our bedroom and throw it on my nightstand. Grabbing a coat, I find myself locking up the apartment nodding slightly as one of our neighbors walk past.

I refuse to worry about the dishes, refuse to worry about the fact that I have no phone. I'm down the elevator and on the street before I realize I don't even have a destination in mind. But being outside, being away from my phone and the apartment and all of the drama is like a breath of fresh air. I avoid any place that is familiar, which is how I end up at some rinky-dink old time movie theater I've never been to before.

They're playing Sabrina and I find myself buying a ticket and settling into a seat towards the back. I finally feel like I can breathe easier and as I watch the screen flicker in front of me, I'm able to forget, at least for awhile, all the drama. I watch Audrey Hepburn as William Holden romances her and she falls in love with Humphrey Bogart.

There are only two other people in the theater besides myself, which is probably why, I finally feel free enough to let the tears fall. I want the kind of love that someone will go to great lengths for, the kind of love that is so overwhelming it takes over your life. I want to be the most important person to someone else, and right now I don't feel like I am.

I wait for the other two people to leave the theater before making my way out of my seat and out into the night air. It's a bit chilly and I find myself clenching my coat to my chest as I continue to walk. As selfish and as immature as it sounds I want more time alone and I know I need more time to think. Instead of heading back to the apartment I find a small bistro and order myself a sandwich and a cup of coffee.

I force myself to finish both.

I try not to notice the lady at the counter and the way she keeps looking up from her crossword puzzle to stare at me. Finally, she gets up the nerve to talk to me, her eyes scanning over my features. "You alright, sugar?" I watch as she slides her pencil into the bun of curly black hair and for some reason it reminds me of the mother I will never have. She leans against the counter, one hand resting against it as the other fills up my empty coffee cup.

"Just a fight with the boyfriend," I reply as I sip at the drink, letting it warm me inside. "I took a night off work, made supper, and what does he do but go out with the guys instead!" I try to sound lighthearted but I can tell that it fails when I see the sadness in her eyes.

"Do you love him?" her voice is serious and she looks at me in a way that makes me feel exposed. Almost knowingly she reaches out and rests her hand against mine, her eyes even sadder than before. I nod my head, acknowledging that in fact, yes I do love him.

My voice cracks a bit as the words tumble out. "But I also miss him."

"Love is never easy," she replies, her hand reaching to fiddle with her wedding band. "It's hard work and sweat and tears and blood. There will be times that you feel like giving up, there will be times that you feel like walking away, but deep inside you know that you can't."

Her eyes are haunted and sad as they reach mine; I find myself leaning forward, her words barely a whisper. "Because they hold a part of you that you will never be able to get back, no matter how hard you try or how many years go by. You don't want to be the person who one day wakes up and realizes that you're too late; that it's too late." Her fingers stop twisting the ring and she closes her eyes, a single tear dripping down onto her smock.

Moments later it's swept away by her palm.

#

I'm not really sure what I expect to find when I arrive home.

Okay, if I truly want to be honest, I expected to find Noah sitting on the couch, a bundle of nerves over where I've been all night. After apologizing over the evening he would sweep me into his arms and take me back into the bedroom, truly apologizing in a way only he can.

Instead, the apartment is empty and dark. It's almost one o'clock in the morning and I'm really not sure whether to be pissed that Noah stayed out so late or relieved that he wasn't sitting at home waiting for a confrontation. I'm _really_ sick of the drama plus stress is bad for you when you are trying to conceive, I read it in Cosmo, I think.

I'm brushing my teeth and wiping off the last traces of the day from my face, when I hear the key turning in the lock. I spit and rinse my mouth before making my way into bed, rolling onto my side. I close my eyes, letting my breathing even out, and pretend to be asleep. I'm exhausted and as much as I love Noah I really just want to forget how truly _abandoned _I felt tonight. I listen to the movement in the hallway, the soft whisper of voices, and find myself being lulled to sleep.

My dreams are hazy, a smattering of voices and images that are disjointed. I wake up sometime, a bit too early to be considered morning, to find myself covered in a sheen of sweat with the sheets tangled around me. I can feel the dip in the bed, signifying Noah's return home. Instead of rolling over and falling back asleep or curling up closer to him, I find myself staring at the ceiling above me.

I'm discontent, my brain racing at a mile a minute as my muscles twitch to get up and move about. I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something, that if I close my eyes and roll back over and go to sleep that I will be changing _everything_. I ignore the feeling for as long as I can until I realize that there is no way that I can reasonably lay there staring at the ceiling any longer; which is how I find myself in the kitchen doing dishes at four o'clock in the morning.

I flick on the small light above the stove and set to work cleaning up my mess from earlier. My arms are elbow deep in hot water when I hear the noise in the living room. I stop all movement, hold my breath, and count to twelve before I hear it again. I grab a small knife and force myself to push open the small door and peer out into the room.

I'm a bit surprised to find the living room packed full of sleeping people. Britt and San are curled up on the couch, their limbs tangled together beneath a small throw blanket. Matt and Finn are sleeping in the two reclining chairs, each of them reclined back as far as they can be. I'm wondering why none of them slept in the guest room and a bit confused as to why they are all here, anyway. Any other time it would have been an amusing sight, but I'm so tired and a bit disoriented so I just find myself shrugging as I move back to the kitchen.

I'm using a bristle pad trying to scrape the now hardened sauce from the side of the pan when the door opens and San walks in, her eyes squinting against the small light.

"What in the fuck are you doing?" She leans against the counter, one hand covering her eyes as the other holds her weight up. I'm too busy trying to figure out how she got untangled from Britt and if I woke her up to answer her question. "Hello. I'm fucking talking to you." Her hand waves in the air in a bit of an annoying swoop and I find myself blinking at her for a moment processing her words.

"Good morning to you too, San," my voice is gravelly and grainy from lack of sleep and I find myself setting the bristle pad down and wiping my hands against a rag. "As for what I am doing, I am simply doing some dishes that I didn't get done last night. I was unaware that you were in the living room and that doing so would wake you. I can go into the other room and finish these at a more acceptable hour."

I'm walking past her, my hands playing with the edge of my sleep shorts when I feel her hand reach out and grasp my arm. She looks at the clock over my shoulder, a few choice words escaping her lips, before she leads me down the hall and closes the door behind us. "What are you doing up at this time, Rach? I thought you were all about getting eight hours of sleep."

I shrug my shoulders, letting my body slump into one of the chairs. "I couldn't sleep." It seems like a simple enough response and I find myself sighing softly as she sits down beside me, her arms wrapping around my shoulder.

"And the shit in the kitchen?" she sounds almost confused as I feel. I must look it, because she mumbles for a moment and then responds. "You sounded like a fucking zombie."

"Probably just tired," I answer honestly realizing how crazy that sounds. There is no point in lying to Santana as she is almost as good as Noah or Finn in telling when I am faking it. "I woke up from a weird dream and couldn't shut my mind off, doing the dishes seemed like as good of a thing as any to pass the time until morning."

The room is silent; the only noise the small ticking of a cuckoo clock that I loathe more than I can even begin to explain, hence its exile to this room. I find my eyes drooping a bit and jerk myself awake, meeting San's worried gaze. "You tried to call me tonight." It's not a question and both of us know that. Instead of answering I nod my head, my eyes refusing to meet hers. "You didn't pick up when I called you back." I don't really have a way to answer that without sounding crazy.

I find myself wondering, what if I can never get things right? What if I am doomed to live miserably no matter who I am with? And why does it feel like the harder I try the more things around me seem to crumble? Life shouldn't be sitting and waiting for the perfect moments, it's too short for that. It's then that I find the words tumbling from my lips before I can even do anything to stop them.

"San," I whisper, "What would you say if I told you that in the future you hate me?"

Her face is filled with confusion, her eyes warily scanning mine. "I think that you need some more sleep, Rach." She's got her arms around me steering me towards my bedroom but for some reason I can't stop now that I've started, the words spewing forth.

"What if I told you that in the future you and Noah get engaged?"

* * *

**Sorry for the delayed posting and responding to reviews, apparently my laptop wasn'****t as fixed as I thought it was. Most of this was typed on my iPad and then formatted over, so hopefully I caught all the errors. Updates should be coming quicker now that my laptop is supposedly fixed... crosses fingers. ****Thanks to all of you who took the time to review and let me know your thoughts/feelings/ect. **

**So how completely amazing was the Britt/Britt episode? I think the version of Toxic was my favorite. Did you all love it as much as I did?**

**N**


	14. Chapter 14

"_The basic (theme) is the past catching up with the present… it's how the actions of one affects others in ways you could never know. We find out how these (characters') choices collide." –Howard Wilson_

I can tell before I even fully open my eyes that I am alone in bed. When I roll onto my back, I'm more than a little startled by the coolness of the sheets. I find myself squinting at the alarm clock, surprised to find that it's only seven in the morning; far too early for Noah to be out of bed. I can see one of the two pieces of my phone lying right next to it; a glaring reminder of my night. I'm trying to figure out what exactly woke me up, when I hear the noise through the wall.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What the fuck do you mean, you don't know?" Santana hollers.

I sit up in bed, listening to the sound of my friends in the living room. There is no echo of the television, no hum of the washers and driers, only the sound of my friends.

"It's exactly what I'm saying," Noah growls, "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about." I can hear his footsteps as he paces the floor and I wonder what they are fighting about. I'm just about to get out of bed and make my way out into the living room when I hear it.

"Rachel fucking sat up with me half the night bawling her fucking eyes out. She said I hated her. She said that you and I were going to end up together." I hold my breath, letting the memories of the night before come back to me. I had been so tired, so exhausted, that I had found myself rambling, the words spewing from my mouth. At the time, Santana had looked confused and a bit concerned. I assumed she was disregarding the things I was saying, blaming my lack of sleep. Apparently I was wrong. "She wouldn't be saying that shit if she wasn't worried about your relationship. She's obviously stressed and concerned."

"You guys need to lower your voices," Finn says softly, "You're going to wake Rachel up."

"Let her wake up," Noah snarls, "Rachel fucking disappears for hours. No one can find her, her cell phone is in pieces around the apartment, and San here's acting like it's my entire fucking fault."

"Well maybe if you weren't such a fucking douchebag," San yells, "we wouldn't be having this conversation at all. Seriously, what dude ditches his girlfriend for wings and beer? Are you missing a fucking sensitivity chip or what? She took the fucking night off to spend time with you."

"I swear to fucking god, Santana," Noah roars, "You say another fucking word and…"

Brittany's soft voice breaks through, what I'm sure is gearing up to be an epic fight, with a few simple words. "You guys need to stop fighting."

I'm pulling the comforter off my legs and contemplating exactly what I'm going to say when I feel the drop in my stomach. I sit still for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what the feeling is, when I feel the acid start burning the back of my throat. I throw the bedroom door open, meeting the startled gaze of my friends as I race for the bathroom. I drop down onto my knees and let the contents of my stomach fill the bowl in front of me. Tears are streaking down my cheeks and I'm gasping for breath when another wave hits me. A hand reaches out and pulls my hair out of the way, while another soothingly rubs my back.

When there is no possible way that I have anything left in my stomach, I find myself resting my head against the wall. I can feel the sweat running down my face and neck and frankly it's making me more than a little uncomfortable. Santana shifts next to me, her hand continuing to rub my back as I take deep breaths.

"Ugh," I moan my stomach rolling as I clench my eyes shut. "Kill me now."

"Why would you want to die?" Brittany questions, "That's like so sad."

Finn tries to explain the hyperbole to Brittany while Matt instantly goes into paramedic mode, checking my pulse, temperature, and asking me a bunch of inane questions. When I mention eating at the diner the previous night, he just nods his head in understanding. "It's most likely food poisoning."

I don't like the way everyone is hovering around, looking down at me all fragile and gross. Grabbing the first arm I can reach, I pull myself off of the floor, my body is weak though and I find myself slumping against them as they help me back to my room. When I am finally lying down, I look up and smile softly at Finn. "Thanks for the help."

He nods his head, with a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. I know his worried face; the way the lines in his forehead furrow and his eyes kind of slant. Grabbing the covers, he pulls them up and tucks them around me. It's a move that is so familiar, so tender, that it makes my heart ache. I shift slightly and he moves to sit next to me, his hand reaching up to brush my sweaty hair out of my face. "Why didn't you call me last night?" his voice is soft, a bit sad. "You called San and Britt, but not me." He avoids looking at my face, choosing instead to stare at a small picture of New Directions that sits on one of the two dressers in the room.

I don't feel like I can tell him the truth. There is no way to explain that I didn't trust myself enough. That if I called him, I would be making the same mistakes all over again. So I find myself shrugging my shoulders and avoiding his gaze as much as he is avoiding mine. "I figured you were out with the guys," I lie. I know it's a feeble excuse, one that isn't very well thought out, but there's not much else I can say.

He leans back against the headboard, his legs splayed out over the bed. "But I would have left if I knew that you needed someone to talk to." His voice is filled with sincerity and I feel guiltier than I probably should feel. He's just trying to be my friend, just trying to help me out, and I feel like I need to keep some distance between us. It's not his fault that I'm hurting him, he doesn't understand what's going on.

"Listen, Finn," I sigh. I turn my head on the pillow, so that it's facing him. His hands are fidgeting in his lap and I find my hand burrowing out from under the covers to lie atop his. "It's not that simple and we both know it." He squeezes my fingers for a moment, his eyes straying from the picture on the dresser to me. He looks me in the eye and nods his head, but the sadness is still there.

"You really do love him," he whispers "even with all the fighting and drama, it's like he's a part of you now." I think back to everything I've gone through, we've gone through, and I can't lie.

"I really do," I whisper, my fingers tightening on his hand. "Kind of the way that Quinn will always be a part of you." There are tears forming in his eyes and I can't help but feel sorry for him. We sit in silence for a few minutes, the air heavy around us. "We're talking about trying to start a family." I whisper. "I want to be a mother more than I've wanted anything, even Broadway."

Finn looks over at me and smiles softly. "I think you would make a great mom, Rachel." He leans down and places a small kiss on my forehead, so light I can barely feel it. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes and I'm trying to form some sort of response when I hear the throat clear in the doorway. When I look up, Noah is standing there with his arms crossed and a scowl upon his face. "Having a nice chat?"

"Dude," Finn hops up from the bed, his arms are held up in front of him in a motion of peace, "we really were just talking." I can tell by the way the vein in Noah's forehead is bulging and his nostrils flaring that this isn't going to be good.

"SANTANA," I holler as I try to shove the blankets off of me and move between the two guys. My muscles ache, though, and I'm moving too slow to be of any use. She comes running into the room, her eyes looking at the two men and then at me.

"What happened?" she questioned, taking in Noah's appearance with wide eyes.

"I walked in," Noah's voice is so low and seething that it literally makes the hair on my neck stand up, "and this fucker had his hands and lips on her." His fists are clenching and I know he's preparing for a fight. I look at San and shake my head no quite profusely.

"It's not what you think," I'm crying, trying to stop the inevitable train crash I see suddenly colliding in front of me. "Please don't do this. Just think for a moment, Noah, please." Matt and Brittany are standing in the doorway, watching, but not moving to help. All I can think about is the fact that someone is going to get hurt and it's going to be my fault.

"What's your deal, dude?" Finn asks as he takes a step backwards. "We were just talking about your guys' relationship and about what happened last night." I'm starting to realize that Noah walked in at the exact worst time he possibly could have, when he draws his fist back and snaps it forward. He gets in three punches before Santana gets in front of him, her hands on Noah's chest holding him back and her face staring at me questioningly.

Finn is lying on the floor, his face bloodied. Noah is cursing under his breath, eyes shooting daggers at the both of us. And I just lose it.

"That's enough," my hands are clenched tightly and I'm literally shaking. "You want to know what you walked in on, PUCK." The minute I use his nickname, his hands drop to his side and he's looking at me worriedly. "You walked in on me telling your best friend that we were trying to have kids. He was telling me what great parents we were going to be and that I shouldn't worry. Congratulations. You're officially an asshole."

"You're trying to have kids?" Santana questions, as she looks between the two of us a bit bewildered. Brittany is standing in the background, hands clapping in excitement. Matt moves into the room to take care of Finn, pressing a towel to his nose as everyone stands in silence.

"We_ were_ trying," I reply, shaking my head in disgust. I find myself reaching under the bed to pull out a suitcase and throwing it on the mattress. "I can't be here right now. I can't be in this environment. It's just not healthy. Violence shouldn't automatically be your go to mode of defense. I shouldn't have to constantly worry that if I talk, or god forbid hug, one of _our_ friends that you are going to go off." My heart literally feels like it's breaking into a million pieces as I reach into the different drawers, randomly throwing items into the suitcase. I can hear the sound of my haggard breathing echoing through the room, but not much else.

No one moves, even speaks. I can see the look of absolute horror on Noah's face; the realization of what is happening seeming to crumble around him. "No," he whispers. "Baby, no."

"I'm going to be staying at that hotel downtown for a few days, until I decide what to do." My voice is shaking, but I force the words out. The tears are threatening to spill over and all I can seem to think is that I'm officially a failure. I've gotten my second chance and fucked it up worse than the first time. I can't even make it to our original break up date.

"Rachel," Finn mutters from the floor, his hand holding a rag against his lip. "Think about this. You love him. Don't make a rash decision." I see the realization cross Noah's face; Finn is sticking up for him and for our relationship. His body buckles a bit and he sags onto the floor. His head, silently, shakes back and forth in shock.

"I'm just taking some time," I reply, as I hand my bag to Santana, "to make the right decision. I don't know if I can be with someone who has such little faith in me."

Noah's shaking hand reaches out to grab my arm as I go to walk past him. He's as white as a sheet and I can see Matt looking over at him in concern. "Baby, I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I love you."

I lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, forcing the tears back from my eyes. "I know," I reply as I walk out of the room, Santana following behind me. It's the first time that I've never said the words back to him.

* * *

**Dear sweet Grilled Cheesus that was hard to write.**

**You kind of had to expect something to happen with the amount of anger/tension that has been building up between Puck and Finn. True?**

**Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter, whether it was to beg for spoilers or share your thoughts I loved it!**

**For those of you who were asking *cough*begging*cough* for me to move all the one-shots from the drabble meme over here, your request has been granted. All of my drabble one-shots can now be found under the story title Puckleberry Twist. So go check them out and let me know what you think!**

**N**


	15. Chapter 15

"_Love is like an earthquake- unpredictable, a little scary, but when the hard part is over you realize how lucky you truly are." - Unknown_

I spend the day with San and Britt and they do everything they can to avoid the topic of the morning. They take me shopping at the mall, forcing me to buy clothes that all of us know I will _never_ wear. In the afternoon they convince me to go to some chick flick that they have been dying to see. Its fine, I'm fine, until the guy in the movie gives this huge speech about how he made a mistake and he loves the girl and her baby. I get up and walk out. When we go to Chili's for dinner and the waiter writes his number on the edge of my slip, all I find myself feeling is dread.

It isn't until I'm in my hotel room, lying in bed, that I get a moment to think. I think about my conversation with Finn and how open and honest I was about my feelings for Noah. It's a conversation topic that had gotten brushed aside pretty quickly once Finn and I had gotten together. For some reason, having it out in the open soothes my worries a bit. I would love, more than anything, to forget the fight but I can't. The images seem to play on a constant loop through my brain.

I can still see the look on Noah's face as he stood in the doorway of the room; nostrils flaring with his eyes ablaze. I can't get the image of his fist swinging through the air over and over again out of my brain. I will never understand his need to use violence or his inability to trust that Finn and I are just friends. Yes, Finn kissed me on the forehead and held my hand and I could understand how, taken out of context, it could be misconstrued. But I _begged_ and _pleaded _for him to stop and let me explain. He didn't.

There was something about the look on Noah's face as I walked away, a kind of desperate hopelessness that seems to shroud my thoughts. The sound of his voice as he whispered his love, the way each word was filled with so much emotion and longing keeps me from sleeping.

I'm filled with a worry that is hard to describe. What now?

I can't honestly see myself going back to Finn as if these past few months with Noah never happened. But, I also can't just forgive and forget the day like it never happened. Seeing them fight, seeing the anger in Noah's eyes broke something inside of me. If he was this upset about a peck on the forehead, I wonder how he felt when he found out about Finn and I after he and I broke up? It couldn't have been easy on him.

I'm restless, crabby, and I can't seem to turn my mind off. I let my eyes focus on the darkness around me and the unfamiliarity of the setting. I'm not sure why but my fingers reach for the phone on my nightstand. It's two am and I can't face the quiet any longer. I scroll through the contacts, my finger hesitating above the dial button and then I push it.

The phone feels heavy in my hands, but I listen to the static as it connects and then it rings once before he answers. "Hey," I whisper. The line stays quiet for a moment and I find myself listening to the sound of each breath he takes. There is something soothing in the familiarity of the noise and I find myself pacing my breathing to match his.

"Hi," he whispers back. His voice is gritty and garbled and I know without a question in my mind that he was unable to sleep, just as I was. I can picture him lying in bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. I clench my eyes shut, holding onto the image, trying to will the tears that I have been holding back from coming. "Couldn't sleep?" his voice is soothing and I shake my head before I realize that he can't see me.

"No," my voice breaks and I sniff to keep the tears at bay. He lets out this small groan when he hears it and I know without a doubt that the worry lines on his face are deepening. I hear him move around in bed, the covers rustling above him and listen to the silence.

"Don't cry; you know I can't take it when you cry." His voice is emotional and I find it getting to me more than I'm willing to admit. I'm the one that's supposed to be angry, it's not supposed to be this easy for him, I shouldn't be hurting _this much_.

"Noah," my voice is pitiful even to my own ears. My heart feels like it's breaking into a million pieces and I'm in so much pain and all I want to do is have someone hold me and tell me that things are going to be alright. He swears softly under his breath and I can hear the sound of him getting out of bed.

"What hotel are you at?" he questions. I can hear him pulling on his shoes and starting the car and all I can think about is the fact that I'm confused and hurting and is this really the best idea? "What hotel, Rachel?" When I don't answer, I hear him turn the car off and there is this heavy silence between us.

"What do you want, Rachel? Do you want an apology? Fine, I'm sorry. I couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when I walked out of the apartment to hang out with the guys instead of staying home with you. Fuck, all I kept thinking was that I was letting you down and I ended up coming home early to find you gone and your phone in pieces scattered throughout the apartment." I can hear his fist pound against the steering wheel, the sound reverberating through the car. "It made me nervous not knowing where you were or if you were safe. So I started calling our fucking friends hoping they would be able to enlighten me and all I ended up doing was pissing Santana and Brittany off and getting a living room full of people telling me how badly I messed up."

He pauses for a moment, his breathing ragged through the phone. When he begins to talk again his voice is calmer, softer, and a bit more emotional. "I will admit that I freaked out when I saw you and Finn lying in bed together. It was like something inside of me just snapped. All I could think about was the fact that you were probably pissed at me and the two of you were lying there in our bed all cozy and he was holding your hand and then he kissed your forehead and I just…" his voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. "I know that Finn was your first love and I know how hard it is to forget your first love but I just _can't _lose you, Rach. _I can't." _

It's quiet and I can hear each shuddering breath that he takes. When he talks again he speaks so softly I have to strain to hear him. "Please don't give up on me, baby."

"I don't know what to do," I cry as I let the tears finally fall, "I'm so hurt and confused." A small sound escapes his lip that's a mix between a sigh and a whimper. I burrow my head deeper into the pillow trying to muffle the small noises that are escaping my lips.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Rachel." I hear a small sniff and the sound of the car starting. "I promise to be better, to try harder. I can't sleep without you next to me. Come home, baby, please?"

It takes him fifteen minutes to drive to the hotel. I'm sitting in one of the two lounge chairs, my eyes staring out at the moon through the window, when he knocks on the door. My hands are shaking and my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest. I'm starting to wonder if I've forgiven him too easily when I find myself moving, my hand reaching out and yanking the door open.

His hair is tousled, his eyes droopy and red, and he looks so exhausted. There is a moment when our eyes meet and I find my breath catching in my throat. And then something flickers across his face and I feel his hands wrapping around my waist, his foot kicking the door closed. He pulls me to him, his arms wrapping around me and molding my body to his as he buries his face into my neck. The muscles of his back are trembling and I can feel his whole body shaking against me.

"I thought I lost you." He whispers as his lips brush against the underside of my chin. "I thought I lost you."

I pull back to look up at him, waiting for him to continue; there is an intensity in his eyes that makes a small shiver flutter up my spine. Instead of continuing to talk, his hands tangle into my hair and his lips fold over mind. He nips at my bottom lip, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I feel his hands snaking under my shirt, fingers brushing against the skin of my stomach and I can't contain the moan that escapes my lips.

Noah's arms move down and tug on my legs, bringing them up to wrap around him. I wrap my arms around his neck, helping to support my weight, and find my fingers digging in the small patch of soft hair that lie there. He pulls away from me, his breaths ragged against my skin, as his mouth trails from my lips to my ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his face nuzzling my neck. I move my hands to the edge of his tank top, nodding as I tug the material over his head. His hands trace the hem of my nightshirt and I look up at him surprised to find a small smile on his face. "You took one of my shirts." He pulls the material over my head, maneuvering our bodies until he has me pressed against the wall. Seconds later, I feel him enter me.

All I can hear is the sound of our labored breathing and the steady thump of my heart in my chest. My eyes are clenched tight, my legs straining to pull him closer, deeper. I can feel the wall scraping against my back, his heart beating against my skin, and the intensity of his gaze as his eyes study me. "Open your eyes, Rachel."

"Noah," escapes my lips in a gasp as I force my eyes to open and look at the man in front of me. He presses our foreheads together, his eyes meeting mine. I can see the emotion swimming beneath the surface; all the fear, longing, grief, and love that he is holding inside of him.

"I love you." I whisper, letting the tears tumble from my eyes as I fall.

"I love you too," he grunts, his head falling forward as he spills inside of me. He holds me against the wall for a moment, his head resting against my chest. I can feel the wetness of his tears as they tumble from his face and onto my skin. He lets out a shuttering breath and pulls back, his hands carrying me to the bed and laying me down on the comforter.

He crawls into the empty space beside me and grabs my arm, wrapping it around his waist. There is a silence around us, one that is filled with so many implications. His hand searches through the darkness and meets mine. He twines our fingers together and I can hear, through the stillness, the sound of his sigh.

* * *

**Couple things: this is unbetaed so all mistakes are mine! I know the chapter is a bit shorter, but I wanted to get it up quickly for ya'll (see how nice I am :P) **

**Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter, whether it was to beg for spoilers or share your thoughts I loved it! **

**I'm going to do something a bit different this time for the review reply (and I think it will be fun). You will still be getting a look at the next chapter and I will still be answering your questions...but when you review I want you guys to give me a prompt (it can just be a few words or very specific) and a few of my favorites will be written and posted! The prompt can be anything your little heart desires, so get your thinking caps on!**

**For those of you who were asking *cough*begging*cough* for me to move all the one-shots from the drabble meme over here, your request has been granted. All of my drabble one-shots can now be found under the story title Puckleberry Twist. I'm *trying* to post a new one every few days. I just put a new one up so go check it out!**

**N**


	16. Chapter 16

"_Love is the life of our heart. According to it, we desire, rejoice, hope and despair, fear, take heart, hate, avoid things, feel sad, grow angry, and exult." - Unknown_

I can remember the sound of Aden's laugh echoing through the park. It was autumn and he was just old enough that he could run around the play area, hands digging into the sand and feet stomping against the wood chips. He had set his mind on looping his way across the monkey bars; his hands grasping at the metal rungs as his body swung. Finn stood at his side, a rare occasion lately, an expression of worry and amusement on his face.

Aden let out this loud squeal as his hands started to slip, his legs flailing as his body rocked back and forth trying to propel him forward. Seconds later, Finn wrapped his arms around him and carefully placed him on the ground. There was something in the way Aden looked up at his father that day that was different. His gaze still held the adoration and love of a child, but there was something more there; something deeper.

The next morning a suitcase had been sitting by the stairs again. There were mumbled words of apology and a promise of returning soon. I understood, or at least tried to understand, since I knew how much Finn loved his job and how important the traveling was to it. But Aden seemed crushed as he hugged his father goodbye; tears dripping from his eyes onto his father's coat. I don't think Finn will ever realize how much that day, that very moment, broke us; all of us.

#

"Baby," I hear a whisper of a sound in my ear. "Rach, you need to wake up."

My eyes squint open, wincing at the brightness that is streaming through the windows. A gentle groan escapes my lips as I look at the phone that is being held in front of my face. I grab the device, rolling over and looking at the clock as I let out a grunt. I hear Noah fall back against the bed and burrow his face in his pillow.

"Do you know what time it is?" I whisper hopping out of bed and yanking the curtain closed. A few seconds later, I'm crawling back into bed. I yank the sheet up over me, to stave off the chill of the room and to cover my body. I wait a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before looking at the display on my phone.

"It's seven am," Finn rumbles, "Do you know who answered your phone?" I can hear the distaste in his voice which I'm a bit confused by. You would have thought that he would be happy that Noah and I had worked things out, instead he seems angry.

"Yes, Finn," I mumble as I hear a soft snore escape Noah's lips, "I know who answered my phone." He mutters a curse under his breath and I can hear him whispering to someone in the background. He takes a deep breath and in that moment I can hear the sound of people around him.

"Sorry, spilt some coffee on my hand." He sounds sheepish and a bit tired. "I was calling to see how you were doing," Finn speaks softly, "I was hoping we could get together and talk. There's a mocha in it for you."

I listen to the soft sounds of Noah's snoring. I know, without a doubt, that if he were awake he would be against this. The thing is, and I'm not sure why, but I find that I can't say no. "The park on 5th in like twenty minutes?" I question as I force my aching body out of bed.

"Sounds great," he chirps. I click my phone shut and reach into my bag, putting on the first items I touch. I don't have time to do much in the makeup and hair department, so I throw my hair up into a ponytail and grab one of the complimentary note pads off the desk.

_Went for coffee, be back soon.  
XOXO  
Rach_

The park is close enough that I can walk. I stroll down the street, digging my hands into my coat pockets as I look at the changing trees around me.

#

"Mama look," Aden screams as he dives into a freshly raked pile of leaves. Giggles escape his lips as he burrows his body under the pile, a moment later his head pops out and he makes a growling noise. "Grr, I'm monster."

I let lose a fake scream, holding my hand to my chest as his laughter bursts through the air. "You're so scary," I squeal as I back away from the pile teasingly. He looks up at me mischievously, brushing the leaves from his body as he steps forward. With each step that he takes towards me, I move back one. I'm biting my lip trying to stop myself from smiling when I feel the leaves tumble over my head.

I jump in surprise, whipping around to find Finn with his hand on his stomach and laughter escaping his lips. "Daddy got you," Aden teases as he runs towards us and throws himself into my arms. He leans up and places a sloppy kiss on my cheek; I can feel the slobber he has left behind. "You funny."

I reach my hand up and ruffle Aden's hair, making the ends stick up a bit. His cheeks are flushed from the chill in the air and from the exertion of running through the yard. I'm just contemplating taking him inside when I feel Finn's arms wrap around me. He rests his chin against the top of my head as his fingers tickle Aden's sides. "I got you, Rach." He whispers in my ear. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as a small gasp escapes my lips.

Aden wiggles down from my arms and he runs around the yard in circles. He stops at the steps leading up to the porch and sits down next to his pumpkin. The thing is almost as big as he is and he leans his head against it sighing.

"Time for a nap," I call out. I pull away from Finn, sending him a small smile over my shoulder. I pick up Aden and carry him inside, ignoring his protests that he isn't tired. I'm laying him in bed when he lets out a loud laugh and reaches his hand up into my hair pulling back a small leaf.

"Night Mama," he whispers as he grabs his stuffed Woody doll and snuggles up with it. "Love you."

#

I can smell the coffee before I even see him. Finn holds the cup in front of me a huge smile on his face as I reach out and pull it to me, taking a huge gulp. "It's freezing out today." I mutter. I hold the paper cup between my two hands letting the heat seep through.

Finn plops down on the bench next to me, his leg brushing against mine as he settles into a comfortable spot. "Sorry about the early call this morning," his voice sounds sincere and when I turn my head to look at him I can see that he is. "If I would have known," his voice stops and he shakes his head. "So you two made up last night?"

He angles his body so that he doesn't have to keep turning to look at me. It's then that I notice the bruises lining his cheek and jaw. My hand reaches up, trembling, to brush against the sensitive skin. "I'm so sorry about this," I whisper. He winces a bit against my touch and I drop my hand down, my fist clenching a bit.

I can see him grit his teeth, the skin of his jaw going taught for a moment. He nods his head and brings his drink up, taking a small sip. "It wasn't your fault."

We sit for a few minutes in silence. I watch a few kids as they mess around on one of the playsets the sounds of their joy reaching our ears. "He's sorry, too, you know?" I tell him. He looks at me for a moment his eyes sad.

"I'm not so sure about that." He replies. I'm not sure that anything I can say or do can repair the damage that has been done to their friendship. So instead of responding, I stay quiet. "I wanted to see how you were doing this morning." Finn mumbles. "I was worried about you last night."

"I had a hard time sleeping," I admit with a shrug of my shoulders. "It's hard to sleep in a bed alone when you are so used to someone lying next to you." He doesn't say anything, just nods his head. I hear his phone buzz in his pocket, but he ignores it.

"How can you forgive him so easily?" the words suddenly burst from his lips. A few parents that are sitting on other benches turn to look at us warily for a moment before their eyes stray back to their children. "I slept with Santana before we got together and that was unforgivable and yet you forgive him for this. I just don't get it."

"I didn't break up with you over Santana," I argue. His brow raises and I can see the disbelief on his face. "There were times when we were together where I felt like you weren't even there with me. I would be sitting and talking to you and I could tell that you weren't listening to me, Finn. You were so insecure, always worried about what other people thought of our relationship. Half the time I thought you were ashamed of me."

"That's bullshit, Rachel." He turns his body so that he is facing me head on. He has a small frown on his face and one of his hands reach up to tug at the ends of his hair. "From the minute you found out about Santana and I you were done with the relationship; it was like I didn't meet up with this perfect fantasy that you had of me in your mind."

"You didn't even tell me about her until after you had slept with me." I find myself shaking my head in incredulity. "Where is this coming from?" I ask confused. "I don't understand why we are arguing about this _now_."

"Of course you don't," Finn mutters dejectedly. He tilts his coffee cup, draining the contents, before throwing it into the trashcan next to him. His head shakes softly and I'm surprised by the sadness on his face. "You're so blinded by Puck that you can't even see what's right in front of you."

"All I see right now," I reply tightly, "is a friend who isn't acting like a very good friend."

He stands up from his seat, his hands digging into his pockets. "You know what, Rachel," the volume of his voice rises a bit as he continues to talk; "you want to talk about someone not being a good friend, let's talk. Where should we start? How about with all the bruises I have on my face because your boyfriend doesn't trust you."

"That's enough, Finn." I rise from the bench to stand in front of him. "You need to stop before you say something you are going to regret."

He shakes his head and turns to start walking away from me. "The only thing I regret is not fighting for you harder when I had a chance." I sit on the bench and watch him walk away, the sound of children around me drowning out my thoughts.

#

Finn sits with a bowl of mashed peas in front of him. He's holding up the spoon to Aden who is refusing to open his mouth. He makes a vroom noise and mutters something about opening up for the plane. Aden whacks the spoon out of his hand, the peas flying everywhere.

I get a washrag and grab a clump out of Finn's hair, holding my tongue between my teeth so that I don't let my laughter escape. He looks up at me and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows what I am thinking. He cocks his eyebrow at me in annoyance and I let the giggles escape my lips.

"I'm sorry, hon." I reply as I wipe the rag against his shirt, "You should have seen the look on your face."

He picks up another scoop of the mush, holding it up to his mouth mimicking the act of eating. He holds the spoon up to an open mouthed Aden. Aden lets the goop sit in his mouth for a moment before he spits it out all over Finn's face and my arm. Finn licks his lips, a look of disgust crossing his face.

"This tastes nasty, Rachel. No wonder he won't eat it." He grabs the rag and wipes his face off and I watch him reach across the table and grab a banana, mashing it up as he feeds it to Aden.

"You're spoiling him," I groan as I watch my son inhale each spoonful Finn gives him. "He needs to learn to eat his fruits _and_ his vegetables. Not just one."

"And you wonder why he said Dada first," Finn teases. "I'm the cool parent." He sticks his tongue out at me jokingly and I find myself whacking him on the side of the head with the rag.

"Well since you're the cool parent you can change his diaper because with all the fruit he's eating, he's going to blow-out."

#

I've been gone almost an hour when I finally make it back to the hotel. Noah is sitting up in bed, one arm resting behind his head the other flicking the channels on the remote. I let out a small groan when I see that he hasn't gotten dressed yet and fling myself into the empty spot next to him.

"No coffee for me?" he pouts as he leans over and places a small kiss on my lips. "Mmm you taste like mocha." He deepens the kiss, his tongue snaking against mine for a moment before he pulls back. I lean my head over to rest on his bare chest, sighing in content as I listen to the sound of his heart beating.

"I'm so tired," I groan letting my eyes close.

"Speaking of," Noah questions and I hear the TV click off, "want to explain why Finn was calling at seven am this morning. That's a bit early by anyone's standards, even yours."

"He just wanted to check on me, see how I was doing." I reply defensively. Noah's chest vibrates as I hear him hum softly. "You know you should have apologized to him when you talked to him today. I'm sure that you left quite a few bruises on his face from your outburst yesterday."

My head gets pushed off his chest and I hear the scoff before I feel the bed shift. Noah hops out of bed and pulls his boxers on, his forehead furrowing as he looks at me. "How do you know I didn't apologize to him unless you talked about me? You weren't on the phone for very long for you guys to get that in depth."

"Seriously," I groan, throwing my head back onto my pillow. "You fell asleep while I was on the phone, if you recall. I'm not going to keep doing this, Noah. I'm not going to keep defending my actions to you. I love you, I picked you. This bickering and fighting has to stop."

"It shouldn't have to feel like it's a competition," Noah mutters, "but it does."

I scoot to the edge of the bed, my hands wrapping around his waist as I let my cheek rest against his bare skin. "There is no competition." I promise as I place a small kiss above his belly button. "You need to trust me."

His hands tangle in my hair and he tugs me up as he bends down, his lips brushing against mine. "I'm sorry," he replies instantly, "It was a trigger reaction to get defensive. I don't want us to fight and I do trust you." His lips brush against mine again and I feel my body move backwards, pressing against the mattress. I let out a small groan as he arches against me, ignoring the feeling of guilt that is building up inside of me.

* * *

**Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter, whether it was to beg for spoilers, share your thoughts, or send me a prompt... I loved it! **

**I've picked a few of my favorite prompts from those you guys submitted and have been working away on them. I've posted a small look at a few of the things I am working on over on the LJ (including a few prompts and a new story)... so head over and check 'em out and let me know what you think!**

**N**


	17. Chapter 17

"_We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are." – Calvin and Hobbes_

"What did he do, fuck you until you accepted his apology?" Santana chides. "Jesus Christ, I drop you off at the hotel and come to pick you up the next morning and you two are in bed going at it as if nothing happened." I hear the sound of the shower flick on and turn to look back at Santana my eyes wide.

"I have to tell you something," I whisper. I can hear Noah's singing floating around in the bathroom and I'm pretty sure with the water running he won't be able to hear us. Still I grab San's hand and drag her out onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

"What are we being so secretive about?" she whispers. Her eyes are wide and her arms are crossed against her chest, trying to ward off the chill of the air. She gets this impatient look on her face and reaches for the door to yank it open. I reach over and hold the door closed as I look at her pleadingly.

"You have to promise me that you will not say anything to anyone." I reply immediately. I hold my pinky finger up and San's eyebrows raise about three notches. "I've seen you and Britt do it." I reply defensively. She nods her head as she links her pinky with mine twisting slightly before letting go.

When I don't say anything she lets out this huge groan, "Start at the fucking beginning B," Santana snaps, "and hurry because his ass is going to be out of the shower sooner or later."

"I called Noah last night because I couldn't sleep," I reply hastily, "and we talked about everything. He begged me to come home, San. He cried." I hear her chuckle and glare at her with my best annoyed face. "So he came over last night and kind of sort of slept here."

"I don't understand why I have to keep this a secret," San mutters. She looks at me in annoyance and I let out a small curse under my breath which really gets her attention.

"Finn called this morning. Noah answered the phone."

"Now we're getting to the good stuff!" she squeals, plopping down on one of the two plastic chairs.

"Finn wanted to see how I was doing. He was worried about me and wanted to check in." I hear her small scoff but ignore it and continue, "So I met him for coffee this morning so we could talk. He basically insinuated that I broke up with him because of you and that he has been in love with me this whole time."

"Rach," San has this strange look on her face, "you did break up with him over me." I shake my head vehemently but she continues to speak. "He wouldn't talk to me for months afterwards. Every time I tried he said something about me ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. At one point he even called me a temptress and I mean I kneed him in the balls for it, but still."

She leans back in her chair, her face studying me carefully. "It's not a surprise that Finn still has a thing for you, I'm pretty sure everyone knew that. Well, I guess everyone but you. I still don't get why this is a big secret. Did you not tell Puck what you guys talked about because you didn't want him to go all cave man on Finn again, or?"

"I may have kind of lied to Noah." I reply. Her mouth drops open and she gets this huge grin on her face. "I told him I was going out for coffee. I just left the Finn part off."

"Holy shit," Santana laughs her head thrown back in amusement, "I am such a _good i_nfluence on you."

The balcony door slides open and Noah looks between the two of us, eyes questioning. "What are you two doing out here?"

"Oh," Santana immediately speaks up. I see her eyes roam his bare chest for a moment and she gets this _huge_ grin on her face. "Rachel here was just telling me _all_ about last night."

"SANTANA," I growl feeling the blush immediately flood my cheeks. She starts laughing again and I can hear Noah sniggering as well. I look between the two of them, my head shaking in amazement. "I'm going to take a shower." I mutter.

#

I know it's inevitable that we are all going to be in the same room at the same time, I just didn't expect it to be so soon. It's a few days after the 'incident' when Tina and Mike invite everyone over to their place. The two of them seem on edge, upset, and a bit quiet. Mike pulls all of the guys into the basement to play some Halo. I watch the back of Noah and Finn's heads as they walk down the stairs and can't help but shoot a panicked look to San.

"Hey Tina," San says nicely, "I _really_ want to see the new Halo game so I'm gonna go down there for awhile, alright?' She doesn't wait for a response before she darts down the stairs. Tina plops down on the couch next to Brittany her eyes filling with tears.

"Mike and I have been going to couples counseling," she announces. "We've been fighting and having some problems with communication and we thought that maybe this would help us. We've been contemplating splitting up."

All I can seem to picture is Kiah. I see the little girls smile, the way her cheeks would dimple when she laughed, and the way she would stick her bottom lip out when she pouted. I can feel the panic rising up inside me and I'm at a loss for words. In the future I know Tina and Mike are happily married, hell they are the perfect couple. This just doesn't make sense to me.

Brittany throws her arm around Tina, her hand patting at the girls shoulder. She looks up at me like 'say something' but the thing is I really don't know what to say. For some reason, the wrong words come out. "Tina does this have anything to do with Finn?"

I can see the anger on Tina's face and I turn to look at Britt sensing her confusion. "Britt, sweetie, why don't you go see which of the guys is winning?"

"Alright," she replies happily. She wraps her arms around Tina giving her a hug before she traipses down the stairs.

"No, Rachel," Tina's voice is filled with malice, "this doesn't have to do anything with your number two."

I'm confused by her statement; I'm not going to lie. But instead of questioning her, I find myself moving next to her and grabbing one of her hands, squeezing her fingers. "I love both of you," I reply honestly, "and it's hard for me to picture you and Mike apart. But you need to do what makes _you_ happy."

Tina starts to cry again and I find myself softly rubbing her back as she lets the tears fall down her face. "I love him," she replies, "but I'm tired of the fighting and the constant bickering. I just am starting to wonder if it's all worth it."

I think about Tina and Mike and how happy they are in the future and find myself opening up to her. "I think that love is always worth it," I reply softly. "You are always going to have your ups and downs. There will be times where you feel as if nothing in life could be better than how you are feeling at that moment with that person. There will also be times when you would give anything to be as far away from that person as possible. But life is scary and lonely." I whisper. "The only thing that makes it worth living are the people we love."

#

The days pass in a blur of motion. Between my time on stage, our friends, and Noah life moves quickly. It's on a Saturday that I find myself in the drugstore, fingers gripping the box as I walk to the register. The cashier looks at the item and then at my ring finger, a look of disgust on her face. I bite my tongue and choose to be the better person.

I take the subway home, letting the rush and whir of the people around me to drown out my thoughts. There is a cute little Asian baby in the seat next to me and I can't help but think of Kiah. Tina and Mike are planning on leaving in a few days for their trip and secretly I wonder if he will still propose. For both of their sakes, for both of their happiness, I hope that he does.

I'm expecting the apartment to be empty when I arrive home as Noah's shift doesn't end for at least another hour; however things that we expect and things that we get are never quite the same. Brittany is sitting next to our apartment door, a duffle bag at her side. She looks up at me as I walk down the hall and I can see the remnants of tears that have been falling from her eyes.

"San and I had a fight," she whimpers. Her eyes look up at me and I can't help but think that she looks a bit like a lost child. I've never really questioned either of them on their relationship but with all of the comments that Noah has made through the years, I've secretly wondered. I pull her into our living room, set her on the couch, and throw my purse and the small drug store bag onto the counter.

I find myself pouring her a glass of water and curling myself into the other cushion of the couch. She has turned the TV on to some movie channel and 'The Princess Bride' is playing. I hand her the glass of water and sit patiently waiting for her to start talking. She doesn't. Instead she takes a small sip from the glass and sets it down on the coffee table her eyes focused on the screen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I question as she pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch and wraps it around her legs. She starts to cry again and shakes her head no. I don't want to push her so I just nod my head and sit silently watching the movie.

Noah gets home just as the credits are rolling on the movie. He looks at Britt's disheveled appearance and raises his eyebrow in question. I mouth 'Santana' at him and he nods his head, making his way back to our bedroom to shower and change before he joins us.

"You know you can stay here as long as you need," I find myself telling Britt as she digs through her duffle bag for something. I see her pull out a stuffed unicorn and set it on the coffee table before she goes back to digging. An old tattered quilt joins the unicorn and she finally turns and looks at me.

"I know thanks." She replies softly. "It's just confusing right now." I nod my head in understanding. Noah is moving around in our bedroom, the sound kind of echoes through the quiet of the apartment, and I'm kind of hoping that he can get something more out of her than I can. As crazy as it sounds, he's a bit better at dealing with these kinds of things than I am.

When he finally rejoins us, he's carrying an old beat up Playstation and a mat. I look at him in confusion but he just holds it up for Britt to see and she gets this huge smile on her face and claps her hands. "Babe," he leans over and places a small peck on my lips, "why don't you go order some food why we set this up."

It turns out that 'Dance Dance Revolution' is like Britt's version of therapy. By the time the food gets there she has beat all of the high scores. As the night progresses she seems to become more and more like her old self and before I crawl into bed she gives me a smile and a huge hug, her bouncy personality back in place.

#

I have rehearsals the next morning at the crack of dawn. I tiptoe around the apartment, trying to avoid waking Noah or Brittany, just grabbing my purse and slipping out the door. After stopping to grab a cup of coffee from my favorite local coffee shop, I make my way to the theater and slip into one of the plush seats.

It's one of _those_ mornings and the director is in mid rant about sequence and pitch and carbohydrates that has become a staple of almost every rehearsal, when I hear the buzzing in the bag at my feet. I reach in inconspicuously and hit the ignore button. I figure it's just Noah calling (or texting) to wish me a good morning, so I don't really worry about it.

When it starts to buzz again a few of the people around me kind of turn and look at me in annoyance. I reach in and hit the ignore button, pulling the phone out I quickly flip it to silent and drop it back into my bag. I don't really think much of it, or even check it again until a few hours later.

The choreographer is working with a few people who are having issues perfecting a dance move. It's one that I had got right away and I'm a bit tired, so I'm just sitting back and watching. It's while I'm sitting there that I pull out my phone quickly scrolling through the missed calls. It isn't until I reach my text inbox that I realize anything is going on. I scroll through the multitude of messages my face paling a bit more with each one I read.

I hear the throat clear behind me and turn around to find Brittany and Noah. Noah has a small white bag clenched in his fist and a confused look on his face. "When exactly were you going to tell me about this?" he questions holding the bag up.

"Yeah," Brittany replies, her arms crossed over her chest and her face set in a frown. "What he said."

* * *

**So my computer crashed tonight, and I have to admit I cried (cursed, screamed, and threatened the damn thing) a bit. I lost everything, all the prompts and chapters I was working on, my iTunes library, all my stored files… everything. Thankfully this chapter was in my document manager so I had a backup. I have to rewrite the next chapter so it may be a few days, just a heads up.**

**Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter. You guys are amazing and I kind of heart you. **

**The first prompt in the prompt call has been posted over on Puckleberry Twist. The first prompt chosen was:**

_Fuck that. I'm gonna get drunker and make them regret they EVER put me at the kids table. I'm a MAN. _

**And was submitted by blackgem88**

**N**


	18. Chapter 18

**"_Our __comfort__ zone has more control of us than we have over ourselves.__"-Peter McWilliams_**

There is a small group of people around me, enough that I am not having this conversation in front of them. I can see the curious looks on their faces, their heads rubbernecking as I walk past them and grab both Noah and Brittany, tugging them from the theater. I wait until we break past the front doors to let them go.

"What are you doing? I was in the middle of a rehearsal. You couldn't wait until I got home and then we could have addressed this, _privately_?"

Noah lets out this little grunt, his eyes rolling at what I'm assuming he feels is another 'diva' moment. Brittany just looks kind of confused, her eyes darting from me to Noah to the doors behind me. "Maybe," Noah finally speaks as he crosses his arms over his chest, "if you would have told me about this before you went out and bought it then it wouldn't have come as _such_ a shock when I found the bag this morning."

"Grow up," I snap, "You're being a complete asshole right now." His back straightens and his eyes narrow at me. I can see the edges of his nostrils beginning to flair and I know before the words even leave his lips that it's not going to be good.

"And you're a bitch," he replies instantly. I can see Brittany's mouth open in shock, but I can't find the words to respond to either of them. Instead I reach over and shakily rip the bag out of his hands. I can feel my whole body trembling and I'm fighting back the tears.

"Thanks for ruining this," my voice is strong but shaky as I turn away from him and storm back through the doors that are filled with people. I can hear the whispers behind me but ignore them as I grab my duffle bag and make my way out the back door. Fuck all of them; I'm taking a sick day.

I get three blocks before I pull out my phone and dial Santana. It's then that I realize I have the white bag still clenched in my fist. I listen to the phone ringing, knowing that she's at the office and that this really isn't the best time, but at the moment I don't really care.

"Rachel," San answers and I can hear the confusion in her voice, "if this is about Brittany I promise I will give her a call as soon as I get a moment free." I can picture her sitting at her desk with her phone perched against her ear, pencil twirling between her fingers.

"San," I reply and I can hear the tremble of my voice as I fight back tears. "Can I stay at your place for a few days?" I hate that I feel like a coward as the words leave my lips, hate that my go to response is to run from my problems.

She strings a few curse words together under her breath and I can hear the aggravation in her tone. "What happened?"

"It's a long story," I sigh, "one that I'm not really comfortable talking about just yet. Just finish up at work and I will head to your place around dinner time, alright?"

#

I'm sitting on the park bench when he shows up. His hands are buried deep in his pockets and his face is etched with worry and concern. I like that I have someone I can count on, someone to be there through the good times and the bad.

"Thanks for coming Finn," I reply as I brush the hair back from my face. My duffle bag is sitting on the bench beside me and he plops down across from me, eyes furrowing in confusion.

"What happened?" he questions. I can feel him take in my beet red eyes and chapped cheeks. He seems to shake his head in sadness. "What did he do?"

"I keep expecting him to change," I reply softly, "I don't know why but I do. I feel like an idiot. We keep making these same mistakes over and over again. I'm starting to wonder if we will ever get it right."

Finn looks at me carefully for a moment, his shoulders sagging. "You two love each other. You're bound to make mistakes but if you really truly love someone you have to take the good and the bad. There also needs to be a point where you say enough is enough. Have you reached that point, yet, Rachel?"

My eyes linger on Finn's face for a moment before looking at the small white bag sitting next to me. "I need to do something Finn," I reply avoiding the answer to his question, "and it's something I don't want to do alone."

I pick the bag up and set it on the table between us and it's like he knows without even asking. He lets out a small sigh and in that moment I can see the pain in his eyes. He forces a smile on his face and grabs the bag, standing up from the bench. He looks smaller somehow, and I can't help the guilt that grips at my heart. I grab my duffle and follow him down the sidewalk towards his apartment.

"I'm sorry," I whisper once the quiet between us feels so heavy it's hard to breathe. His steps falter and he turns to look at me, silently nodding his head.

"I know," he replies softly, his hand clenching the bag, "Sometimes you can't help who you fall in love with." And the thing is, in that moment, his voice rings true with so much sincerity that it makes my heart stutter for a moment.

"You're a really great guy, Finn." I reply softly, my hand reaching over and linking with his, I squeeze his fingers once before letting them go. No other words are needed, so we continue the walk in silence. When we make it to his place, I lay my duffle next to the door as my eyes scan the apartment. It's just the same as I remember it from all those years ago and I get a strong wave of déjà vu as I run my hand along the top of the sofa.

I remember lying on this couch the night after Noah and I ended, curling up into the cushions hoping to block out the sound of my tears. I can picture all the times Finn and I sat on the couch watching movies, making out, or just sitting and chatting about our day. It's like the line between my future and the now is blurring and all I can feel is my heart thrumming in my ears.

Finn takes off his coat and throws it in his lazy boy. He holds the bag out to me and then buries his hands in his pockets once I take it. "Bathrooms through there," he points to a door just slightly down the hallway and I nod my head, my fingers gripping the bag tightly. It's awkward, tense, but I make my way into the small room and close the door behind me.

The bathroom's a bit messy, which isn't really that big of a surprise. I sit on the toilet seat for a good five minutes with my head in my hands before I get up the nerve to rip the package open. The words Clear Blue Easy taunt me as I pull the directions out, my eyes scanning them quickly.

It seems simple; pee, wait, read. The thing is, though, it's anything but simple; it's life altering.

I uncap the plastic stick, my nose wrinkling in disgust. You would have thought they would have come up with a more sanitary _better_ way. When I'm done, I lay it out on a few tissues on the counter, wash my hands, and exit the room.

Finn is sitting in front of his drum set, his sticks gently tapping a rhythm out as I walk into the living room. He looks up at me, expecting results, but I shrug and sigh. "Test takes three minutes." He nods his head in understanding, eyes darting between me and the clock on the wall.

I'm nervous, jittery, which is how I end up walking around the room staring at different things. First it's his movie collection, then it's his games, and when I get desperate I stand in front of his drum set and play with the symbol. He seems able to read my mind or at least perceive the tension I am feeling. Instead of dwelling on it, he tries to distract me by handing me the drum sticks.

I'm horrible and no I'm not being modest.

I'm beating on the drum and I can feel each wince that Finn takes as I butcher the sound and the rhythm. When I tap the symbol two times in a row he finally reaches over and takes the sticks from me. I can tell by the look on his face that he is forcing back a smile, tell that he is biting his tongue.

"I'm dreadful," I mutter and he lets out a loud belly laugh, his head falling backwards as each breath escapes him. "It's not funny. I'm truly very bad." He nods his head in agreement, hand running over the edge of one of the symbols lovingly as if soothing it from the damage I caused.

Boys and their toys, I tell you.

I look at the clock, more than a little aware that the time is already up on the test. The thing is, I'm not ready to see the results yet so I find myself slouching into the Lazy Boy and resting my head against the cushiony arm rest. "Let's put in a movie?" I suggest. Finn looks up at the clock and then at me, realizing immediately my avoidance.

"Alright," he replies smiling as I curl deeper into the fabric. It's comfortable, familiar, and safe. I feel myself letting out a small sigh as I watch the screen go from black to blue. When I see the movie title I can't help but smile.

"I love this movie," I whisper my eyes filling with tears.

"I know," he replies as he flops down on the couch. He lays with his legs spread, arms crossed behind his head. There is a comfort in this familiarity, in the domesticity and sameness of it all. I watch Buttercup and Westley with fascination. I've seen the movie so many times that I know much of it by heart, but at the moment none of it matters; I'm still caught up in it all. I find myself mouthing the words silently, my eyes brimming with tears.

It's when the credits are rolling that I see that Finn has fallen asleep. His body is turned towards me, face slanted so that he could most likely watch me mouth the words. I get up and turn the DVD player and TV off. I grab the blanket off of the back of the couch and lay it gently across Finn.

I stand and watch him for a moment seeing so much of Aden in the relaxation of his face and twisted posture. Leaning down I brush a few of his hairs off his forehead before making my way down the hall to the bathroom. I stop just outside the door, my hand resting on the doorknob and take a few deep breaths.

When I'm ready I open the door.

#

"You're late," Santana calls as I open the door and drop my bag next to the couch. "I was starting to get worried."

Her kitchen table is littered with containers of Chinese food and I reach for the cashew chicken and rice before plopping down beside her. She looks at the container of food in my hands, eyes raised in amusement.

"So either you're giving up your no meat thing or you need comfort food?" she questions.

"Both," I reply plopping a large chunk of chicken into my mouth and closing my eyes as I savor the taste. She laughs loudly as I dig into the food, devouring most of the container before I come up for air. "Sorry I was starving."

She nods her head in understanding, mouth tilted into a smile. "So where did you go all afternoon?" she questions. When I look at her in confusion she smirks before setting her food down. "I got a call from Britt."

"I went to the park for awhile, then just _around_." I reply before quickly changing the subject. "Does that mean that you and Britt are on speaking terms again?" She nods her head happily as she shoves a fortune cookie into her mouth.

"Yep, we're all better. She's staying at your apartment again tonight and then she should be home tomorrow."

"Great," I reply as I grab my fortune cookie and crack it in half, shoving a chunk into my mouth. "I'm happy things worked out."

San has this mixture between amusement and annoyance on her face and I can tell that she is dying to ask me. "Just say it San," I reply as I shove the other chunk into my mouth my eyes reading the fortune in my hand.

_**To love is to forgive.**_

"Did you take the test?" she asks her eyes wide and curious as she stares at me. My eyes keep lingering over the words so instead of responding I simply nod my head.

"And?" she questions, her body leaning towards me a bit as she waits for the words to leave my lips.

"And," I reply cautiously, "I'm not saying anything to anyone until I have talked to Noah."

She gets this huge pout on her face, hands gripping the edge of her table. "But I'm like your best friend." She whines. I can't help but think of the boy a few miles away curled up on the couch, his snores filling the living room. I can't help but think that the best friend title belongs to someone else.

* * *

**So my computer is up and running again, which is cause for celebration! Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter. You guys are amazing and I ****heart you! Thanks for the encouragement and support!**

**N**


	19. Chapter 19

"_**We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger." ~Tad Williams**_

I wake up stiff, sore from the hard bed beneath me, and pressed against a body I don't remember falling asleep with. His fingers grip me tightly as I hear the gentle snores escaping his lips. I uncurl his hand, dropping it into the empty space, and trudge out into the kitchen. Santana is in front of the stove, her hair twisted into a bun, as she dances in front of a pan.

"Why is there a boy in my bed?" I question groggily as I plop down at the counter, my head resting against the cool granite countertop. Santana sets a mug of coffee in front of me, her eyes studying my face for a moment.

"Because letting him into the apartment was better than listening to him bang on the door at three o'clock in the morning." She lets out a small scoff as if I knew better than to ask before shuffling the food onto a plate and setting it in front of me. "Eat."

I take a small bite of the hashbrowns, my eyes watching as Santana flits around the kitchen most likely preparing breakfast for herself. "Was he drunk?" I question hesitantly. She freezes for a moment in front of the sink before shaking her head.

"No, just upset and looking for you." She lets out this small hum like there is more that she wants to say but is biting her tongue. I watch her use a spatula to flip her egg in the pan and can't help notice the way her eyes keep twitching between my face, the coffee mug, and the pan in front of her. "You're not drinking your coffee?" She questions.

I know what she's doing and can't help but smile at her as I pick the mug up and take a drink. "Nice try," I reply as I set the mug down next to my plate before shoving another fork full of food into my mouth.

"Can't blame me," she teases her eyes widening for a moment before diverting back to the pan in front of her, "morning Puck." My back tenses a bit and I hear a small grunt escape his lips as he pulls out the stool next to me and plops into it.

The kitchen is silent, Santana standing still as she prods at her food with her spatula. It's more tense than you would expect, considering the fact that Noah and I shared a bed the night before. "Mornin' Rach." He swipes at my coffee cup, bringing it up to his lips to take a big gulp as his eyes study my face.

"Morning," I reply tightly, shoving another bite of food into my mouth as I scan the kitchen cupboards around me, my eyes resting on Santana's patented not interested façade; secretly she's listening. My fork scrapes gently against the edge of the plate and I look at a wadded section of yesterday's newspaper.

"Are you going to ignore me much longer?" Noah sighs, his arms resting against the counter as he rests his head against his palms, "Because I kind of don't like it."

"I don't know," I reply as I drop my fork onto my plate, "are you going to call me a bitch again because I _really_ don't like it." The legs of my stool scrape against the tile and I find myself heading back into the bedroom. I'm not having this conversation with Santana standing next to the the two of us, watching like a hawk.

I hear the click of the door behind me and turn around to see Noah still holding my coffee in his hands. He takes another drink of it and I can't help but notice the bags under his eyes; he looks as exhausted as I feel. I find myself sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands bracing against the mattress. Noah stands next to the door, his body resting against the jamb.

"We either have a proper conversation or this doesn't happen." I say sternly. "No yelling, no cursing. Do you think you can manage that?" He nods his head in agreement, his eyes lingering for a moment on my stomach. I can see the flicker of emotion in his gaze as he meets my eyes.

"I know that nothing I can say will explain away my behavior the other day," his words are quiet and his gaze is steady as it meets mine. "But you have to understand that, for me, it was like fucking sophomore year all over again, Rachel." Noah clears his throat and moves closer, setting on the bed near me. He moves one of his hands over the top of one of mine, it's shaking a bit.

"I was already in a piss" he prevents himself from cursing, his eyes rolling before he continues," bad mood when I found the bag. I was hoping that you were planning on telling me about it, that you weren't trying to fuc- hide it." He stops for a minute and I can tell by the slouch of his shoulders and the way his head hangs that he is thinking about Beth. It's a posture that I have become familiar with through the years of living and being with Noah. He looks defeated.

"But you ignored my texts and calls. I knew that you were in rehearsal but you've always had time to respond back. Immediately, I thought you were ignoring me." His voice halters for a moment, his posture tensing. I think of all the things he's told me through the years, the way Quinn berated him and put him down when she found out she was pregnant and I feel guilty.

"When Brittany woke up she could tell something was wrong. At first, when I showed her the test she got really excited. But then I think she realized that I was upset and that got her upset. The next thing I knew we were both so fuc- pissed that we were storming in on your rehearsal."

I hear the doorbell and Santana's curse, there is muffled talking from the living room but the room I'm in is completely silent. "When I confronted you, I could see how surprised and uncomfortable you were." Noah mutters. "It made me feel like you didn't want people to know that you were with me, that we could possibly be having a baby together."

I let his words sink in; absorbing everything he is saying and not saying. I understand his trigger reaction to be upset, with everything he's gone through it makes sense to me that he would feel that way. What I don't understand, though, is the reason that he would think, let alone feel, that I would do something so horrible and heinous.

"Noah," I whisper as my eyes fill with tears, "the day I bought that test I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I sat on the subway, my body twitching with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get home and take it." His hand squeezes mine and I look up at him, letting the tears fall. "When I got home, Brittany was sitting in front of our door and I immediately went into crisis mode and forgot all about it. I wasn't hiding anything from you, I wouldn't do that."

I let the words settle in the air around us before continuing. "The thing I'm most disappointed about, though, is the fact that instead of talking to me about your fears and insecurities you attacked me in front of my coworkers. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How that made me look?" I sag into the bed a bit, my legs curling up beside me as I turn to face him. One of his hands sits on the bed between us; the other rubs the back of his neck.

"This," I gesture between the two of us with my hand, "is never going to work if we continue on the path we are on. I can't take all the fighting and accusations, I can't take the mistrust. If we're fighting over something as sacred as a pregnancy test where do we draw the line?"

I can see the wheels turning in his head but before he gets a chance to respond there is a knock at the door. Santana cracks it open her eyes taking in the two of us on the bed before she clears her throat. "Rachel, there is someone in the living room to see you?" She sounds aggravated and a bit confused which only seems to confuse me. I hop off the bed and trek down the hallway, stopping short at Finn sitting on the couch. He has a small plastic wand gripped in his hand and he looks and smells like he came from a bar.

"CONGRATULATIONS," he shouts, his speech slurred. I can hear Noah and Santana as they move down the hallway and into the room but my eyes are glued on the man in front of me. He waves the stick around, his eyes glassy and red. "It's what you wanted, Rachel, right?"

He drops the item on the floor between us, his body slumping back against the cushions of the couch as he continues to babble. My eyes dart between the test, Noah, Finn, and the look on Santana's face. "I always knew you would be the one to break me," Finn mutters and I find myself standing frozen in place.

"Shut up, Finn." Santana roars. I can hear the warning in her voice each syllable filled with venom. I whip around to look at Noah who is looking between the test, Finn, and I his mouth set in a firm line.

"What the fuck is going on?" Noah questions. He walks past me to pick up the test, his eyes settling on the two pink lines as he looks between an intoxicated Finn and me. "And why the fuck does Hudson have this?"

"I can explain," I reply, my hands in the air between us as I walk towards him slowly. "I can explain everything. Why don't we leave Santana here with Finn while we go in the back room and finish our discussion."

Before he can get a word in, I wrap my hand around his arm and tug him through the hallway throwing a glance at Santana as I pass her. It's with her subtle nod that I know she has my back. I tug Noah into the guest bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me before pushing him towards the bed. "You may want to sit down for this."

I tell him everything. I explain about meeting for coffee, Finn's confession of love, and my response. I tell him about Finn and Tina, about Finn's love for Quinn, about how he is feeling lonely. He sits silently, the small piece of plastic clenched between his fist as his nostrils flare. I wait for him to say something, anything, and I'm not disappointed.

"So what? The fucking second you left me yesterday you ran to Hudson? Are you fucking kidding me?" He drops the test on the bed next to him, his face a mask of anger and disgust.

"No," I reply before he can continue. "I called Santana who was working and then went to the park for awhile. I didn't call him until a few hours later. I was scared, Noah. I needed a friend to be with me when I took the test; I needed to know one way or another what the results were and we weren't talking." The tears are tumbling down my face and I find myself stepping closer to him, silently praying that this doesn't break us.

"I was going to tell you all of it, every last detail, but he interrupted us. I know, especially right now, how hard it may be to believe, but I swear to you Finn and I have been over for years and we are just friends." I can hear Santana yelling in the other room, laying into Finn, but right now all I can focus on is the face in front of me. It's filled with hurt and anger.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I haven't had doubts these past few weeks. I'm not going to say that our relationship is perfect. But I love you, Noah. Nothing has happened between Finn and me since high school, I swear to you. I've wanted to tell you for so long about us hanging out, but I was so afraid of what you would think or of what you would say."

Noah looks at my face for a moment, his eyes rimmed in red. "Look me in the fucking eyes Rachel," he whispers hoarsely, "and tell me you haven't been having an emotional fucking relationship with him for months now. Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? Do you think I haven't seen the way he looks at you? Haven't noticed the way that you sometimes look at him?" He shakes his head in disbelief, his hands clenching and unclenching. I find my hand reaching out, gently stroking the underside of his chin.

"I'm so sorry that I've made you feel that way," I reply, "so sorry that it's come to this." My hand grasps his and brings it up to rest upon my belly. His fingers twitch against my shaking skin and I can feel the tears falling as the gasps escape my lips. "I fucked up." I whisper. "I was just looking for a friend. I see now how it could be misconstrued; see how it could be seen as something other than friendship." His fingers tighten against the material of my shirt and I let the sobs fall out. "But I promise you that all I saw and all I got out of it were friendship."

"I'm pregnant, Noah. I wanted you to be the first to know, wanted to be the one to tell you that you are going to be a daddy. But Finn has ruined that for me now." I'm curling in on myself, the world closing in until it's just the two of us, only the two of us. Both of our sobs fill the air around us as our hands grasp at each other's clothes. Noah pulls me closer, my body resting on top of his. I'm shaking, trembling, my breaths pant against the skin of his neck.

We lay together, neither of us moving, for what seems like an eternity. The light from the window fades and the moonlight filters through the curtains. I'm pretty sure that Santana drug Finn home a few hours ago and I can't even seem to find the energy to worry or to care.

"Are we going to be ok?" the words fall from my lips, each shaky and defined through the stillness of the air.

"I don't know," Noah replies softly, his eyes clenched tightly as his hands trace the edge of my stomach. "I just don't know."

* * *

**Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter. I was surprised by the response! You guys are amazing..t****hanks for the encouragement and support!**

**There were quite a few questions regarding the last chapter and where this story is going... I've said from the begining that Finn is an integral character in Rachel's development and as such she _has_ to have some interaction with him. I'm hoping this chapter helped clear up any lingering doubts.**

**N**


	20. Chapter 20

_**I don't normally do this, but in this case I feel I need to. I'm posting a pre-warning for this chapter because of its content. This is not a happy chapter and it deals with some sensitive issues. –I don't want to give too much away so please read the A/N at the end.**_

"_We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it." – James Matthew Barrie_

For the next week, things are strained and our lives are grooved into a new routine. Each moment feels rushed, a frenzy of activity, with little thought. It's hard to believe that we've avoided talking about the one thing that looms in the room around us but we have. Finn's absence only seems to make pretending to forget all the more easier.

It's the middle of October and the leaves are gone, the air becoming crisper. It's just two short weeks until that eventful blustery night when everything between the two of us went wrong. I find myself ticking down each day, each moment, and questioning every decision that I'm making. I'm determined to make it this time, determined to not make any more mistakes.

Two days before my doctor's appointment, Noah tells me I'm smothering him. I can't say that the news is all that shocking; we've seemed to spend every spare minute together since the fight. While Noah spends the next day with Matt and Mike I find myself spending the afternoon with Britt and San at the mall. We're in the Gap waiting to try on clothes when I see the small polka dotted dress hanging in the baby section. I can't stop myself from holding the delicate fabric in my fingers.

"You should buy that," Britt's words float from behind me, "it would totally freak Puck out." My fingers slip through the silky material one last time before I place the item back on the rack and rejoin my friends.

"It's too soon," I reply ignoring the small drop I feel in my stomach.

The girls joke and laugh as we pull the clothes on and model them for each other in the mirrors. The atmosphere is lighter than it has been in weeks and it's a bit of a relief that things are slowly getting back to normal. By the time we get back to my apartment the strain and worry of the week have vanished and been replaced by an ease and acceptance of everything to come.

#

My doctor's appointment is scheduled in the afternoon between my morning rehearsals and Noah's night shift. He meets me outside the small private practice, his hands shoved into his pants pocket, as he paces next to the door. I can tell he is a bit on edge, his teeth biting at the edge of his lip, as I walk up to him.

He also stinks of cigarettes.

"I thought you quit?" I find myself questioning as I stop a few feet away from him, my nose scrunched in disgust.

"I just had one or two to help calm my nerves," he replies his shoulders sagging a bit at my obvious dislike. I'm trying to be understanding and I know that he is probably more nervous than I am about the whole situation so I nod my head and mentally remind myself to check his pockets and throw out his pack later.

The waiting room is swarming with people and there are a few kids playing on a small indoor play set in the corner. I check in at the desk and find myself sitting with Noah next to the fish tank. I can't take my eyes off of the small kids as they bound up the steps and slip down the small plastic slide.

Noah places his fingers against the side of my stomach and I can feel the heat of the tips burning into my skin. "Just think," he whispers, "all of that is growing inside this." He taps his fingers against my stomach a small smile on his face as he looks up at me. I can't help but smile in response.

We're called back a short time later. A sample of my blood is taken and I'm given a small cup to pee in. I make my way down the hall and into the bathroom, quickly filing the cup and capping it before slipping it into the plastic bag. The doctor talks to us briefly, setting up a follow up appointment, and promising to call when he has the results.

It's literally the longest day of my life.

The call comes in at four that evening. I'm getting ready to rehearse on stage when I hear my phone chime out from the vanity in front of me. I listen as the doctor explains the results, the tears filling my eyes as I tell him I understand.

I'm pregnant; like _for sure doctor confirmed_ pregnant.

I can't wait until the end of the night to tell Noah, but I know that sending him a text message isn't the best way either. Instead I find myself skipping out of the theater early and heading the five blocks over to his office. It's a bit chilly but the wind feels good on my overheated skin and I find myself unbuttoning a few of my jacket buttons letting the breeze wash over me.

I'm so excited I can barely contain it and I make it to his office in record time. My mind wanders as I find myself walking through the building, wondering if Noah will be able to take an early lunch, when we will call and tell our parents and our friends, and if he has names in mind. Having the doctor confirm it has made it all the more real in my mind and I can't wait to share the news with him and for our first ultrasound.

I push his door open, not bothering to knock, and trollop into the room a huge grin on my face. The smile drops, however, when I see the woman kneeling on the floor in front of him. Noah's hands are gripping the arm rests and his eyes are clenched tight as she moves around.

I hear the clunk as my purse hits the ground.

His eyes open and meet mine and I can see the confusion and dismay on his face. I'm not sure what's happening or even if I say anything. I'm pretty sure that I'm crying, though, as the woman flips around to look at me. I look at his secretary for a moment, my head shaking, before I bend over and pick up my purse.

"Don't bother coming home." I tell him. I'm not sure if it's the tone of my voice or the look on my face but he doesn't say a word. The only thing I hear is the sound of my heart beating in my ears. Somehow I manage to dial Santana and I can't even find the words to speak let alone explain. My sobs fill the receiver and I hear her yelling something as she asks me repeatedly where I am.

I'm really not even sure.

I let the phone drop to the ground as my feet continue to move me away from the building. My heart feels like it's tearing apart and I'm having trouble breathing. Some lady stops and asks me if I'm alright and I can't even shake my head to answer her.

The words 'if only' keep playing over and over in my brain. If only I hadn't wanted this so much. If only I had been happy in my previous life. If only things had been different. If only.

I'm not sure how I find myself sitting in one of the bathrooms by the subway. My hands and legs are shaking and numbness is settling through my body. I feel something wet slide down the side of my leg and it's only when I see the drops of red on the floor that I understand.

It makes the tears fall harder.

#

Santana and Brittany meet me in the emergency room. The minute Britt see's me she starts bawling and Santana just stares at me her face a mixture of pity and horror. I can't find the words to tell them that I'm alright, can't even find the words to tell them what happened with Noah. Instead I pretend to sleep.

When the doctor finally discharges me, there are three people sitting in the plastic chairs each with equally grim expressions on their faces.

"What is he doing here?" I question. My voice sounds zombielike, dead, and the girls look between Noah and me with confusion. There are remnants of tear streaks down his face and he looks like he has literally been through the ringer. The thing that's disturbing, though, is that I can't seem to find it in me to care.

"Rachel," he whispers as new tears escape his eyes, "baby I promise it wasn't what it looked like, what you were thinking." A small scoff escapes my lips and my hands begin to shake. I can feel the words tumble from my lips, the one's that will break him.

"You should be proud of yourself," I whisper, "all it took was for me to walk in on you having one little affair for our relationship to crumble, for me to have a miscarriage. Congratulations, that takes some talent." The words coming from my mouth feel foreign, bitter. I can see the outrage on Santana and Brittany's face as they get between the two of us shoving Noah further away.

Before Noah can speak, before he can respond, I'm ushered away from him and out of the hospital. I chance one last glance over my shoulder to see him sitting in one of the chairs, his head between his hands.

#

Life isn't fair. Love isn't fair. Nothing is fair. If I've learned anything, that's what I will take away from this second chance; my if only.

The pain is so unbearable that I find myself shutting off by the time we make it back to San and Britt's. A few of our other friends are sitting around on the couch, their faces morose, each of them silent. I know, deep inside me that this will break us; all of us.

I'm helped into the back room and I can hear the noise level rising from the living room. I'm sure Santana and Brittany are filling everyone in. I can't seem to find it in me to care. I find myself curling up further under the blankets. I'm cold, empty. It takes me awhile to realize that it's a feeling that isn't going away with warmth.

I hear the knock on the front door, the yelling and the fighting. I can hear Noah's voice rising above the others begging to see me, begging for a chance to explain. I tense expecting the door to whip open. My eyes focus on the knob waiting for it to move. It never does.

Sometime, I'm not sure how long after, the tears begin to fall. Eventually I force my shaking body out of bed and into the small tub just off of the bedroom. I crank the water as hot as I can and find myself folding my body into the heat. My skin burns, reddens, prickles from it; I can't care.

Eventually I rest my head back against the cool porcelain of the tub. I picture my son and my life before as I listen to the small hum of movement from the other room. I let my eyes close as the tears fall.

'If only I hadn't wished for any of this' I think before I fall asleep.

#

The sounds of Beethoven are echoing around the room as I pry my eyes open. I can smell the familiar vanilla and jasmine incasing my senses. When I open my eyes, I'm surprised to find myself in the fancy familiar tub of my house with Finn.

I'm disoriented, confused, and a bit surprised to hear a steady knocking sound come from down the hall.

"Rachel?" the voice calls gently through the foyer.

I grab a towel and wrap it around me, pulling my robe off one of the small hooks and wrapping it over the towel. My feet pad against the carpet as I make my way down the stairs and stop just at the landing my eyes meeting those of my best friend.

"Tina called me," Santana replies, "I wanted to check and see if you were alright?"

"What are you doing here?" I question. Santana looks at me for a moment, her brow furrowing in concern as she brings her hand up to rest against my forehead.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" she asks softly, "because you are acting really strange."

I look at the non-familiar décor around me, my eyes settling on the collage of pictures on the wall and the curses begin tumbling from my lips.

* * *

**A few things before the lynch mob occurs...**

**Rachel's future will be/is different than her previous future. I've said it before and I will say it again… it is NOT the same future she left.**

**Just because Rachel thinks she saw something happening with Noah, doesn't mean that what she saw is what she thought she saw. These two are dramatic and react sometimes without thinking as can be seen in most of the Glee episodes.**

**I really was hesitant to include the miscarriage or even use it as Rachel's catalyst for sending her back, the thing is (if I'm truly honest) it's what has been planned since chapter 2. It's a hard and emotional topic, yes. But it had to happen.**

**Finally, do you honestly think I would post this as P/R if it wasn't going to end up being P/R? Just saying (you doubters you)!**

**I was amazed by the response to the last chapter! You guys are truly wonderful!**

**N**


	21. Chapter 21

_Italics are flashbacks_

* * *

"_**We're given second chances every day of our life. We don't usually take them, but they're there for the taking." -Andrew M. Greeley**_

The memories come to me in small flashes each one a bit more specific than the last. I find myself resting against the arm of the couch, one hand holding me up while the other holds onto my pounding head. Santana is on the phone in the background, her voice a mixture of concern and panic as she looks at me warily.

"_Would you punish me for something I didn't do?" His voice echoes through the room around us. "Persecute me based on your fucking insecurities." My body is still so numb that the words bounce right off of me as I burrow myself deeper into the bed. "Jesus fucking Christ, Rachel, say something, anything."_

"_That's enough, Puck." The voice is etched with concern and anger. "She's been through enough today." Finn shoves him out of the room, glancing back once to make sure I'm alright._

Santana pushes me back and forces me to sit down on the couch. She's clutching a bottle of water in her hand, her fingers denting the thin plastic. "Drink this," she shoves the bottle into my hand as she brushes a few strands of her hair off of her brow. "And breathe slower."

_I've been in bed for over a week when I finally venture out of the room. Everything looks dull, lifeless and I'm not sure if it's from living in a dark space for so long or if that's just the way things are going to be now. I trudge into the living room surprised to find the apartment empty. It feels fitting._

_Mindlessly I flick on the TV and rest my head against one of the many throw pillows. I'm so tired, so physically and emotionally exhausted that even watching the TV takes its toll on me. I'm out before the first commercial break._

_I wake up to the sound of quiet voices in the kitchen. A blanket has been wrapped around me and the TV is off. "Do you believe him?" Santana whispers. I hear the clang of a pan being placed on the stove and the click of the small stove light being turned on._

"_No," Finn replies softly, "it just doesn't fit." It's quiet for a moment and then I hear his small sigh. "If I thought it would help I would let him lie, though. She looks so not-Rachel like."_

"_I know," Santana whispers. I can hear her moving about in the room, the sounds of her cooking, and the silence that has seemed to grow between friends._

My head is pounding and I feel as if I am waking from some drug-induced slumber. I squint my eyes at Santana taking in the roundness of her stomach and I feel more nauseous than I can ever remember.

"You're pregnant?" I question. My fingers twitch and tremble uncontrollably. There is movement in the entryway and Finn lopes into the room, headed straight for me. He takes in my appearance and looks at Santana in confusion. Pulling me to him, he wraps his arms around me tightly, lifting me from the couch into his embrace.

"You alright, Rachel?" he questions.

"_How you doing, Rach?" Finn plops onto the couch next to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and tugging me against him. He feels warm, comforting, and I find myself resting my head against him._

"_I'm fine, Finn." I reply. Even I can hear the doubt in my voice, the conviction that I am not alright and that I never will be again. I can feel his eyes looking at me and for some reason I can't find it in myself to continue the charade. "I'm terrible," I whisper honestly, "broken."_

_He pulls me into his lap, his arms resting against my waist. The house is quiet, everyone else having left to go to work. I rest my forehead on his shoulder as the tears sting at my eyes. "It will get better," he whispers into my hair, "you will get better."_

_He places a gentle kiss against my forehead and I can see the love and adoration shining in his eyes. This time it feels like enough. "Help me," I whisper into the skin of his neck, "help me get better."_

_Finn pulls me back, his eyes taking in the lines of my face. He looks older, more tired than I have ever seen him before. And then he nods._

I wrap my arms around Finn's neck the tears tumbling down my face. He hushes me softly as small sobs escape. A hand tangles in my hair and soothes the back of my forehead before moving down to my back. Each brush makes my breaths slow just a little bit more.

"That's it," he whispers, "take slow deep breaths." I feel his chest expand as he breathes with me. After a few minutes I feel like my panic is under control. I pull back and look at the ridges on his forehead, his face lined in worry. My hand reaches up to soothe the lines out and he smiles at me softly.

"Better?" he questions.

"I think so," I reply softly my eyes taking in the scene around me. Santana is still sitting on the couch beside me, a few tears tumbling down her cheeks. I see her look at Finn in gratitude as she rests a small hand against the curve of her belly.

_My fist hurts; I'm clenching it so tightly. I can feel the edges of the paper dig into my skin as I pace back and forth in the small room. There is a gentle knock and then Finn enters, his eyes taking in my appearance._

"_Is this true?" I question, throwing the letter on the bed in front of me. Finn reaches down and picks it up, his eyes scanning over the words. I can't help but pace the room franticly, the sound of my padded footsteps and our breathing the only noises._

"_I don't know," he replies softly. "Rach, you need to take a deep breath." I force some air into my lungs, relishing the burn. "It sounds like its true." He places the crinkled letter on the bed between us._

_I can feel the tears stinging at my eyes and I bring my hand up to rest against my protruding belly. Finn comes up behind me, his fingers twining through mine. "You remember what the doctor said," he whispers. He taps his fingers along my stomach, "you need to stay calm for our little one."_

"_But if it's true," I question._

"_Then it's true," Finn replies._

"Tina should be on her way over with Aden," Santana's voice seems to break me from my revere. I find myself looking at the smattering of pictures on the wall once again, my eyes scanning over the top image.

I get up and move closer, listening to the soft hum of my two friends whispering. I hear Finn ask Santana to stay, hear him ask if I would like them to take him for the evening. I find myself nodding, my eyes refusing to leave the image.

I'm standing with Noah, Aden wrapped between our arms. We all look so happy.

"_This isn't working," Finn paces in front of the bed. It's a little after two in the morning and we've finally just gotten a very sick Aden to sleep. "Neither of us is happy anymore."_

_As much as I know it's true, it doesn't make this any easier. Instead of responding I find myself setting down on the bed we've shared for years. I can feel the tears fall down my face as I nod my head in understanding. "We were young," I whisper, "I was eager to forget."_

"_The thing is," Finn replies as he sets down next to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, "I don't think you can forget, Rachel. I think that maybe, just maybe, he's a part of you the way Quinn's a part of me."_

_We sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the gentle sound of our son breathing through the baby monitor. He's just over one year old and too smart for his own good. I can't help but think about how all of this will affect him, how his life will change._

"_Admit it, Rach." Finn murmurs as his fingers tighten on my arm, "you haven't been able to stop thinking about him since you received that letter. The distance between us lately hasn't helped," he continues, "I know that all my traveling has been hard on us."_

"Mommy," my little boy cries as he runs through the living room and throws his arms around my legs. I reach down and pick him up my arms engulfing him as I pull him to me. He looks over at Santana and waves happily.

"How's my baby?" My lips brush against the crown of his head and I take in a deep breath, relishing the smell. I can feel the tears threatening to spill over my eyes but I clench them shut and take a deep breath before opening them again.

"I'm bass-ass." He squeals. I hear Tina and Santana's laughter and can't help but bite back a smile.

"Its bad-ass kid," Santana corrects him as she shoots a small wink at me. I know that I should reprimand her for teaching him, but instead I find myself shaking my head in amazement. Aden wiggles out of my arm and trollops over to Santana placing a big sloppy kiss on her stomach.

"Hi sitster," he whispers against the skin his fingers tapping out a tiny rhythm. He squeals as a small kick presses against his hand.

_It's freezing outside, the snow coming down in big flakes that seem to engulf the concrete around me. I press my finger against the buzzer listening to the hum and waiting for some kind of response. Seconds later I hear the click and his voice floats over the speaker. "Who is it?"_

_He sounds tired, worn out, and yet it's so good to hear his voice that it's hard for me to speak. When he asks a second time, his voice full of irritation, I find my words. "It's me," I reply. I burry my hands into my coat pockets and clench my eyes tight. "Can I come up?"_

_I hear the click of the intercom and then the door buzzes open. Instead of waiting for the elevator, I take the stairs up the three flights, which gives me ample time to think. He's standing in the hallway, his door propped open behind him when I come into view._

_He looks the same and yet different all at the same time. The years have added a few lines to his face and he now keeps his hair longer. There is also a maturity in his eyes that he was lacking all those years ago, the sign of someone who has lived a hard and long life._

_He takes in my appearance, his eyes sad and tired looking, before he pulls me to him. His arms wrap around me and I find myself engulfed in his familiar scent. "Hi," I mumble against his shoulder as my fingers dig into the flesh of his back._

"_Hi," he whispers into my hair._

"How long of a break do you guys have before you have to head back to New York?" Tina questions. Instead of answering her I shrug my shoulders and watch Aden crash one of his play cars into another one, his mouth forming the engine noises and crashing sounds.

"Not quite sure," I reply with a shrug of my shoulders. My eyes settle on a few of the playbills scattered between the pictures on the walls. An image of my life is suddenly starting to come into focus for me and it's literally taking my breath away.

"_You got my letter?" he questions._

"_I did," I reply. I take a sip of the small cup of coffee he's placed in front of me before I look up and meet his eyes. "Thank you," I continue, "I know I never gave you the chance to explain and I know that you deserved at least that and I really needed to hear it too."_

"_I just didn't want you to think," he pauses for a moment his hands tightening on his mug before he continues; "the whole time I was with you I was faithful. I loved you, both of you."_

_The air is heavy around us, the silence deafening. I can feel the tears burning at my eyes and see that he is fighting back his emotions as well. It's further proof that neither of us have truly gotten over our loss._

"_Do you ever think about how different things could have been?" his words are quiet, his voice haunted._

"_Every day," I answer truthfully._

_

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**I loved your responses to the last chapter. From those of you who were "non-doubters" to those of you who have expeienced a miscarriage themselves this story is for you, all of you; the readers.**

**We're nearing the end... I see one or possibly two chapters left.**

**N**


	22. Epilogue

"_**What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from." –T. S. Eliot**_

It doesn't take long for Aden to become exhausted with the playing and I soon find myself saying goodbye to him again as he heads to Finn and Santana's for the night. He gives me one last lingering kiss on the cheek before Santana tugs him out the door and I can't help but smile as he giggles at the way she waddles down the sidewalk.

Tina excuses herself a few minutes later, promising to call in the next day or two. There is something different about her now, a sort of distance that wasn't there before, but I chalk it up to my confusion and simply offer a wave as she walks out the door.

With everyone gone the house is empty, quiet. I curl up on the couch, using the remote to flip through the various radio stations. It's all a bit disarming, to be honest. Everything seems the same and yet different and I know that it's going to take some getting used to. Finn and I are divorced. The words feel foreign to me and I find myself repeating them out loud and letting them linger in the air around me. I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but I'm a bit surprised that there is no heavy feeling; no deep loss or regret.

My eyes scan the pictures on the wall, taking in the new family portrait. My heart seems to swell at the image of Noah with his arms around Aden. They both look so happy, so right together that it almost takes my breath away. The thought of having both Aden and Noah seemed so incomprehensible, so non-plausible that I have a hard time taking my eyes away from it.

I'm still sitting on the couch an hour later when the front door opens. I hear his heavy footsteps before I see him poke his head through the entryway. He looks worn out, tired, and he drops his guitar on the loveseat before joining me on the couch.

"Long day," Noah mumbles as he pulls me closer to him, his arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me into his lap. I feel him nuzzle the side of my neck with his nose and he lets out a small sigh. "I fucking love you."

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes alight with mischief and delight. He scans the room for a second, brow furrowing as he takes in the empty room around me. "Where's Ad at?" he questions as his lips run along the edge of my hairline.

"He went to stay with Finn and Santana for the night," I reply as my body sags into his arms a bit more. He lets out a low growl and I can't help the small chuckle that escapes my lips. "He will be back tomorrow," I reply sensing the concern that Noah is trying to hide. "It's not like he hasn't stayed with them before."

Noah nods his head in acknowledgement, his fingers brushing against the small strip of skin between my shirt and sweat pants. "Does that mean we have the whole night with just the two of us?" I nod my head, unable to fight back the smirk that is forcing its way onto my face.

His arms wrap around me and lift me up and I can feel the way his body vibrates as he moves the two of us up the stairs. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" he questions.

#

I wake up some time in the middle of the night and find myself unable to fall back asleep. I curl into Noah, relishing his warmth, and rest my head against his chest listening to the steady beating of his heart. "Can't sleep?" he murmurs. His voice is groggy, soft, and he pulls me closer to him.

"Just thinking," I find myself replying. His hand sweeps down my spine in a soothing manner and I feel the brush of his lips against the back of my head. Seconds later, I can hear his gentle snore as he falls back asleep.

I lie awake for awhile, just watching him sleep until my eyes burn from exhaustion. I think about wishes, hopes, dreams, and how we got to where we are today. I think about Finn, Aden, and the man lying in bed beside me and the crazy journey we all have been on. It's strange to think how making a few different choices can alter your life, can change your path completely.

"Go to sleep, Rachel." Noah mutters his arm tightening around my waist as he pulls me closer. He seems to sense that there is something deeper bothering me, though, and his eyes open and squint through the darkness. "What's wrong?" he questions.

"I love you," I reply truthfully. He smiles at me through the darkness, his lips leaning down to reach mine. "I feel like I don't say that enough," I reply honestly, "and I need you to know how important you are to me."

Noah's quiet for a moment, his eyes studying me seriously. He nods softly in response. "You're important to me too," he whispers. There is something more he wants to say but I can see the nervousness behind his eyes. "Marry me, Rachel?" he questions.

He twists to the side and digs in his nightstand, pulling out a small black box a few seconds later. I'm a bit speechless really and I can't seem to find the words to answer him. "I've wanted to ask you for so fucking long but it never seems like the right time. But the truth is Rachel that any time is perfect because we fucking love each other."

"Yes," I reply as the tears fall from my eyes. "Please."

#

Our relationship is far from perfect. There are times when we get on each other's nerves, we have our fair share of fighting and yelling, and sometimes we say things we regret. These are not the moments that define the story of us; far from it, actually.

I'd like to think we were defined by our good moments; those moments of borrowed time where it's just the two (or three) of us together. Each is different and special in its own way but almost all of them are filled with laughter, love, and a hope for the future.

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_**And there we are, the end of Borrowed time. I'm kind of really sad to see this one go. Thanks to all of you who have supported me, cheered me on, reviewed, alerted, author alerted, or added to your favorites. This story is for all of you.**_

_**I have two multi-chapter story fics that I've been contemplating working on next. I'm going to post a little snip of each below, feel free to tell me what you think! I've also been working on a few one shots that should be posted soon (although I'm not sure when). If you'd like to catch these, make sure you add me to your author alerts : )**_

_**N**_

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**Safe Haven (or You Saved Me)**

"_**None of us knows what the next change is going to be, what unexpected opportunity is just around the corner, waiting a few months or a few years to change all the tenor of our lives."- Kathleen Norris.**_

The snow drifted softly to the ground as the young girl trudged through the slick streets towards her destination. The biting chill of the wind cut through her thin clothes and forced her to pull the bundle in her arms tighter to her chest. She listened to the small whimper and fought back her own tears, pushing forward.

"Shhh," she whispered as the cold air burned her throat and lungs, "we're almost there."

Growing up she never imagined her life would end up like this, never imagined the cruelty and pain and fear and loneliness. Then again, there are so many things they don't tell you as a little girl. They don't tell you that life is nothing like the books that were read to you as a child; there is no prince charming, no happily ever after. They also don't tell you that people only look out for themselves; the world is far much more cruel and unkind than is even fathomable to imagine.

She was wiser now, though. And she knew it all.

The tall building loomed in front of her, the final destination for the bundle in her arms. She stopped just a short block away, her eyes stinging from the cold and looked down at the pink blanket letting her tears fall and freeze to her cheeks.

"I know that this may be hard to understand," her words caught in her throat and she choked back her emotion. "But I pray that one day you will." She laid a gentle kiss against the cloth, her face snuggling into the tiny ball of warmth before she trekked the last block.

The electronic doors swung open and she was hit with a burst of heat that made her face sting and her eyes water. Taking a deep breath and willing back the tears, she stepped inside. The lobby was filled with people bustling about their day. A small desk to her left offered pamphlets and information. Another offered directions.

She bypassed them all, making her way to the right walking past the coffee shop and gift shop before stopping in front of an open office door. A young girl sat at the desk, shuffling paperwork as she hummed along to the festive music. Her heart lurched in her chest as she looked at the sign next to the door.

_Dr. Elijah Berry – Pediatrician._

She walked into the office and up to the desk, feeling her stomach drop as the girl set her paperwork aside and smiled at her kindly.

"Hello, may I help you?" the girl questioned.

Her nametag stood out against the brightness of her childlike top, the black letters etched into the white sticker. "Yes, Rachel," she replied softly, "I think you can."

She lifted up the pink bundle, her heart breaking in her chest. She held her small baby girl out, placing the pink bundle into Rachel's arms. She fought back the tears and the overwhelming sense of dread as the young secretary looked on with confusion on her face.

"Tell her I'm sorry and that I love her," she whispered as she took one last long look at the swaddled baby.

And then, she ran.

* * *

**Even In the Darkness**

_**"Just remember - when you think all is lost, the future remains." - Robert H. Goddard**_

It's not an easy thing, telling my story. There's no way to sugarcoat what happened to me, no way to quell the disbelief. The fact of the matter is, my life started the day I woke up in the emergency room. I can remember the numbing whiteness of the walls, the voices talking all around me. My body was sore, my head spinning, and I tasted blood.

An elderly nurse stood next to my head, gently brushing her fingers along my shoulder. Her dark grey hair was pulled back in a bun, her glasses low on her nose. I remember thinking how sad and kind her eyes looked as she leaned down over my face.

"Rachel?" she questioned softly. "Can you talk dear?"

I remember trying to clear my throat, trying to get rid of the metallic taste in my mouth. "I think so," I whispered, not a bit surprised at the raspy quality.

"My name is Janet," I felt her fingers gently brush across the skin. "Do you have any family?" I could feel the weight of my wedding ring on my finger and found myself nodding my head.

"A husband," I whispered feeling the strain on my throat.

She holds her pen poised above the clipboard in her hands. "What's the number we can call him at?"

I wrack my brain, trying to remember the phone number and then look up at the nurse with tears in my eyes. "I don't know." I whisper.

She holds up a New York driver's license in front of me. "This is your driver's license; we found it in your pocket. I'm not sure how to tell you this, Rachel." She clears her throat her eyes looking worriedly over my face. "We found you on the side of a county road just off the interstate. This," she motions to the hospital around us, "isn't New York. In fact, you're quite a bit of a ways away from New York."

I'm not sure if she can see the confusion on my face or if she just understands how much this all is to take in. "Where are we then?" I question, my voice is shaky and I sound like a scared child.

"Right now Rachel, you are in Texas."


End file.
